Polar Opposites
by j3nnee
Summary: Neal wakes up as someone else. Spoilers, whumpage, supernatural themes
1. Chapter 1

**Polar Opposites**

It had not been expected and it had happened quite suddenly. Still, despite all the evidence proving that what had happened, had indeed happened, it wasn't an easy transition. How could one explain what happened to someone else and not sound insane? It wasn't going to be easy so for now, they hid... or more honestly, HE hid until what could be undone was possible.

**(Exchange)**

It was as if he was being pulled down into a deep cold darkness and then suddenly he was looking upwards, or so it felt. He could feel the cool cement of the warehouse floor beneath him, his body stiff and sore. Neal fought to move, feeling a few fingers move and then the flickering of light above as his eyelids opened and he could finally see. First thing he felt was a pain in his head as if someone had smacked him with a 2x4. He managed to push himself up to his elbows and look around. His vision blurred in and out of focus as he finally sat up and tried to look around. Neal wasn't sure what was going on but something felt different to him. He heard what had wakened him up and pulled a cell phone from his pocket. He pushed a button and held it to his ear.

"_Peter? Hey... where are you guys_?" It was Jones. Neal didn't know what to say.

"Jones?" He froze hearing a voice that wasn't his own answering. Neal looked at his hands suddenly and the cell. They were so familiar and yet...

"_Peter, I'm headed back. Hughes was looking for you. What happened_?" Jones sounded like he was in a car. Neal kept looking at his hands and then at his clothes. They weren't his clothes, the style different. Someone was speaking to him, the cell, Peter's cell still in his hands. He pushed it to his ear.

"_Are you ok, Peter? Where's Neal_?" Jones was calling him Peter. Neal blinked, still feeling odd, head throbbing. Maybe he was having a weird dream? Neal looked around, Peter must be around... He saw a figure lying limply upon a nearby crate. Neal stood legs unsteady. His head continued to hurt but hadn't he been hit in the chest? He looked down and saw no blood except a few spots dripping from his cheek. Neal walked towards the figure and felt his pulse begin to race.

"How..." He just stared down at the figure, the world beginning to spin around him as he felt consciousness begin to leave him. He must be dreaming, he thought. How could this be happening? Neal collapsed to the floor, his mind numb suddenly.

"_Peter? Peter are you there_?" Jones' voice came over the cell that Neal held. It woke him up if only a little and he shook his head, scooting over towards the figure again. If this was a dream, it was a weird one. Neal looked at the limp figure and tried not to be afraid. They were hurt badly, a large blood stain on their chest. Their face was pale, nearly white. He felt for a pulse and shivered at the coolness of their skin, a faint pulse evident. He still felt faint but not due to the wound but due to the surrealism of the situation.

"_Peter_?" Neal had forgotten about the phone and raised it to his ear.

"Jones? He's hurt... I'm..." Neal was confused still, kneeling by the figure and trying to wrap his mind around everything.

"_Who's hurt, Peter_?" Jones kept calling him Peter but when he spoke, his voice was strange.

"Who?" Neal looked at the figure, phone pressed to his ear and blinked.

"I am..." He felt the world collapse around him as he passed out.

**()()()**

Neal was dreaming. He remembered the sting going according to plan. He got the people to talk; Peter and crew picked it up and raided the place. He was arrested with the others to make it look like he was a criminal. Once everyone was gone, Peter had removed the cuffs. They were chatting when someone got the jump on them. One of the criminals had been hiding well enough nobody had seen him. He shot at Peter but Neal pushed his friend out of the line of fire and felt the bullet enter his chest. He found it hard to breath, wheezing when he looked up and saw Peter hold him, his face tragic.

"Neal? Neal talk to me!" Peter sounded scared, Neal trying to speak but unable to. He saw the gun man lead Peter by gun point into the warehouse, the agent carrying Neal. Peter lay him on a nearby crate, nudging him gently. The gunman laughed.

"You'll be with him soon. Don't worry." The man's voice was dark and cold, Peter turning to glare at him. Neal didn't know what to do. He was cold; his body feeling like it was fading away as he started to lose consciousness. He twitched slightly, body growing colder.

_Peter, I'm sorry... I thought..._

He saw Peter reaching for his gun and then saw the agent fire, a loud report echoing in the warehouse as Peter grimaced at the gunman, his head whipping back as something hit it hard. Peter collapsed to the floor and lay there, eyes staring blankly. The gunman smiled a moment before collapsing, a gunshot in the chest. Neal could barely breath, watching the gunman fall and seeing his friend staring up blankly.

_Peter... Peter don't die!_

It was at that moment he heard another voice behind his own; A familiar one.

_Neal, don't die on me..._

_Neal..._

The voice was faint but it was Peter's. Neal saw the agent sit up and look at him oddly before he walked over and touched him on the shoulder. Neal didn't understand what was going on till he noticed that Peter's body was still lying on the floor staring skyward. Suddenly he found himself looking upwards and then everything went black.

**()()()**

"How is he?" A woman's voice was speaking in the background. He shifted slightly, his head throbbing still. He heard movement and the click of something like a ballpoint pen. He shifted again, a soft hand brushing at his hair.

"It was a mild concussion. Your husband is a very lucky man. Once he wakes up, we can evaluate him and he should be able to go leave soon after." Neal guessed this was the physician speaking. He heard a sigh of relief.

"Thank you, Doctor." Elizabeth Burke's voice sounded happier than he'd ever heard it. Neal was glad to hear Peter would be ok. He wanted to wake up and talk to her. He was still too weak, listening while he could.

"Doctor, I wanted to ask about... Neal. How is he doing?" Her voice was cracking slightly with emotion.

"Mrs. Burke, it's still too early to say for sure but we have him stabilized for now. We're waiting to see how he fairs over the next few days. He's still in ICU but we're hopeful." Neal blinked despite his eyes being shut. He was in ICU? He didn't feel that badly but...

"We're praying for him. Thank you again, Doctor."

Neal felt his eyes begin to open, the light hurting his eyes he winced. There was movement near him and a soft hand on his shoulder.

"He's waking up! Honey, hey..." Elizabeth was speaking to him but her tone was more familiar than he remembered. Neal turned his eyes towards her and focused. She smiled down at him and moved to kiss him, Neal surprised when it was on the lips. He blinked up at her wondering what was up. El smiled down at him.

"Hey Peter, how are you feeling?" She hugged him gently, her hand squeezing his. Neal blinked again looking at the doctor for help. The physician smiled and moved to the opposite side of the bed, taking Neal's wrist in his hand and taking his pulse.

"Strong and steady. You're doing much better, Mr. Burke." The doctor smiled at him and patted him on the shoulder lightly before leaving the room. Neal was confused, wondering what kind of weird hallucination this was. He looked up at Elizabeth and tried to speak.

"El?" He felt oddly, something wrong as he looked at his hands. These weren't his hands. How...

"Yes Peter dear? What is it?" She was hugging him close and about to kiss him again when he turned his head. El looked confused if not hurt.

"Peter... how is he?" He had to know how Peter was but his question just brought more confusion to Elizabeth's face.

"What? Don't you mean Neal? Honey, what's wrong?" She brushed his hair but he shrugged her off, her face curious. He shook his head.

"Why do you keep calling me Peter? I'm Neal." He was adamant unsure what kind of weird dream this was but El seemed so real, her expression worried and concerned.

"Neal? He's in ICU... what's wrong honey?" She turned to call the doctor but he grasped her arm gently.

"I am Neal, El. Please... tell me how Peter is." He gazed up at her with concern seeing her blue eyes looking at him even more oddly.

"Let me call the doctor back in, Peter. Ok?" She looked at the door anxiously, Neal staring up at her. He still held her arm but let go when she obviously didn't believe him. How could they not? He WAS Neal. He knew that more than...

"What's wrong Peter?" El had paused when he sat up and looked at his reflection against a water glass on the nightstand. Neal held up the glass and looked closer. It couldn't be!

"Peter, I'm calling the doctor back." El sounded worried, Neal looking at the image in the glass. It was Peter's face.

"El... wait..." She hesitated, looking back at him curiously.

"I... I'm sorry I scared you. I was confused." Neal wasn't sure what was going on but if the doctor came back, he knew it would be bad. He would figure this out or wake up from the nightmare. El looked at him worriedly, hugging him as she near him.

"You sounded so sincere, Peter. You sure you're ok?" She kissed him on the cheek, nestling near him. Neal felt uncomfortable but he would just have to deal till he woke up. It had to be a dream. There was no other explanation although why he was dreaming he was Peter was beyond him.


	2. Chapter 2

**(Chapter 2)**

Peter watched the stain on Neal's chest grow larger as he knelt beside his friend. The young man didn't move, his face pale and ashen, blue eyes a stormy gray. The con had pushed him aside and taken the bullet meant for him.

"Neal? Neal talk to me!" Peter was scared, terrified of losing his partner. They were alone, the gunman holding a gun on him. He heard the click of the gun being cocked and refused to go without a fight. Peter turned and pulled his gun from his shoulder holster, firing on the fly. The gunman fired at the same time, Peter feeling something smack him on the side of the head hard, whiplash as his head flew back from the blow and he collapsed to the ground. He twitched slightly as his head connected with the cement floor, his eyes looking up at the ceiling as he felt himself disappearing.

He thought he saw Neal looking down at him from the crate where he had placed him. The young man looked frightened.

_Neal?_ He thought, watching the young man looking at him, before he noticed what was wrong. Neal was sitting up, watching him and yet someone still lay on the crate. Peter blinked although his body remained still, standing up and looking at his friend. Neal no longer sat up, the image fading. He walked over to the crate and looked down as he watched Neal's body twitch and shudder in pain, blue eyes rolled back.

_Neal, don't die on me..._

_Neal.._

He touched the young man's shoulder and felt a strange sensation as he was pulled into darkness. He found himself struggling to breath, body in agony, his chest burning with pain. He twitched in response to the sensation as he looked up and saw a surprised Neal standing and looking down at him. Peter wanted to talk but saw his friend move backwards and disappear into another form lying on the floor. He gasped ever so slightly, seeing himself lying there on the floor, eyes staring up blankly before closing, head slumping to the side.

Why was he seeing his own body? What was wrong? Was this some kind of a nightmare? He gasped again, body shuddering in agony from the shot to his chest. Chest? He was shot in the head wasn't he? Peter tried to make sense of what was going on when he saw Jones come in.

"AGENTS DOWN!" Jones was on his phone, moving over to the other figure and talking softly.

"Peter... Peter wake up." Jones sounded worried, shaking the figure gently. Peter was confused.

_I'm over here, Jones... Over here!_

Jones threw his jacket over the other figure then moved over towards him. Peter felt some relief, the agent looking down at him.

_How is Neal? Jones?_ He thought unable to speak but then Jones nudged him, a worried look on his face.

"Caffrey... how did this happen?" He shuddered in response, his body still burning from the pain in his chest. He made gasping sounds, Peter wishing he could talk. Jones gently touched his shoulder and tried to calm him down.

"Just hold on, Neal. Paramedics are coming." Jones tried to ease his discomfort, Peter confused.  
_  
Neal? I'm Peter... I'm..._

Everything started to fade away, his mind growing hazy.  
_  
Jones... call El. Please call my wife_. He thought as he fell into darkness.

**()()()**

Neal woke up the next day only to find himself in the same strange nightmare. El had come to visit him again, acting as she had the day before. He was surprised how everyone kept calling him Peter but went along with it figuring whatever happened in the warehouse, it had caused this strange hallucination. At least his head didn't hurt quite so much today so it had the day before. El told him he would be able to leave today once the doctor came in for one last evaluation. Neal nodded, feeling somewhat uncomfortable when she kissed him on the lips. He didn't reciprocate which seemed to bother her considering it was his dream. Neal was still concerned as to why he hadn't seen Peter something about that worrying him. If he's Peter than who was Peter? He sighed, leaning back into the pillows and trying to figure things out.

"Peter?" Neal turned to see Elizabeth looking at him curiously. He blinked nodding as she hugged him and brushed gently at his hair.

"I'm ok. Just thinking about Neal." He felt odd saying that but otherwise she would worried and he didn't want her to worry, dream or not. Neal closed his eyes, his mind going back to the shooting and all this craziness.

"Well the doctor will be in soon and we can go visit him once you've checked out." Elizabeth looked at him with a slightly concerned glance. Neal noticed wondering what she was thinking. If it was a dream, wouldn't he know what she was thinking? He thought about that a moment when the doctor came in. It was a quick cursory exam. The physician shined a light in his eyes to check his responses, had him follow his fingers and checked his vitals. Everything seemed good and the doctor smiled, patting him on the shoulder gently. Neal nodded back glad he'd be able to finally see Peter he hoped. He wasn't sure how this dream was going to end up. Elizabeth looked happy, hugging him gently and smiling at the doctor.

Once the doctor was gone, Elizabeth pulled an overnight bag out and placed it on the chair beside the bed. Neal looked at it curiously.

"I brought you a change of clothes, Peter." Neal nodded, sitting up gingerly. They had already removed all but the one little finger clip thing that monitored his vitals. His chest hurt and he felt sore from laying down for two days straight but he felt pretty good regardless. Elizabeth helped him stand up, handing him the clothes. He felt a moment of embarrassment and went into the bathroom, closing the door. He slowly started to dress, his body hurting and wishing he had someone to help but he didn't think it would be right to dress in front of Elizabeth. It took a few minutes but he got the jeans and shirt on, stuff he wouldn't wear but apparently Peter would. Neal sighed, turning to look at himself in the mirror.

Neal gasped loudly, looking at the reflection and feeling a kind of shock. He waved at the mirror and saw the hand move and yet, it wasn't his hand he saw moving. Neal kept staring into the mirror.

"Peter honey, you ok?" Elizabeth's voice spoke softly through the door. Neal was still in shock staring at the odd reflection, his head shaking, unable to speak.

"Peter? Did you need help with anything?"

Neal heard the door opening and reached to lock it. He heard Elizabeth rattling the knob and talking.

"Peter? The door is locked. Let me in." She sounded worried but he wasn't sure what to do. He kept looking at his reflection, seeing Peter's face where his should be.

**()()()**

Peter was trapped in darkness. He could hear voices, Jones had spoken to him briefly before he passed into a deep unconsciousness. After some time he found himself floating in the darkness looking around but unable to do more. He felt cold, his body less than substantial. He thought he heard a soft beeping sound in the background along with the soft hissing of something off and on. He began to realize the hissing sound is a respirator because he can feel his chest move up and down in response to the sound. Peter wonders where his wife is, feeling lonely as he hears the faint voices of what he can only guess are doctors and nurses talking to him as he lay there. The voices pass and he hears a new set.

"_Neal? Can he hear me?_" Peter recognized the voice although it did take him a moment. June. He smiled but wondered why she was calling him by his partner's name.

"_I don't know. He looks so pale._" It was his wife's voice. Peter wanted to open his eyes and look at her, hug her and kiss her. He heard June reply.

"_I brought a bag of clothes for Neal but I don't think he will be able to use them till he wakes up._" She sounded worried, tone full of sadness.

"_Peter's been asking about him all day. Tomorrow he should be checking out and we'll come by to see him._" Elizabeth sounded happy, her tone tinged with worry about Neal. Peter blinked despite being unconscious. He was right here but Elizabeth spoke as if he were elsewhere.

"_You said Peter was confused when you talked to him earlier? Poor dear._" June's voice sounded as if it were moving, the sound of soft footsteps moving to his right.

"_Yes, I wasn't sure what was going on. He kept telling me he was Neal. Maybe he feels guilty for what happened?_" Elizabeth sounded upset if not confused. Peter wasn't sure what to make of what he was hearing.

"_He told you he was Neal? What did the doctor say? Maybe it has to do with his head injury?_" June sounded worried, clucking her tongue.

"_I don't know what to make of it. When I said I was going to get a doctor he told me he was just confused. I guess he could have been. He sounded so sincere though._" Elizabeth sighed, both women quiet for a bit. Peter wondered why Neal would insist he was him and why they were talking about him as if he weren't laying there in front of them.

"_I'm sure he'll be fine once you get him home. Peter will feel better once Neal wakes up. We all will._" June sounded certain, hopeful as their voices faded to silence. He was unconscious again, the darkness falling over him like a thick blanket. He felt suffocated, smothered but he fought to stay in control. Soon the darkness changed into the image of a room. Peter watched as the room formed into that of a nice wood paneled library or study. It was the kind of room you'd see in a mansion or fancy estate. There were books filling the walls with only a few shelves empty. Peter found himself walking over to a shelf and pulling a book. He read the title, words in a fine serif font of gold lettering. It read: N.C. 1999-2009. Peter blinked wondering if NC was what he thought it meant, Neal Caffrey. He opened up the book and suddenly a rush of images flooded him.

Peter closed the book and fell back into a comfy arm chair exhausted, the book falling to the floor. It seemed to pulse with a life of its own as he stared at it. He looked around as a distraction noticing that the room was styled similarly to the rooms Neal had at June's. There was a large full length mirror along the wall near a wardrobe. Peter stood and walked towards the mirror and started when he saw his reflection. Although this was a dream, (_what else could it be at the moment?_) he found himself staring at a strange sight. Peter looked in the mirror but he saw Neal staring back.

"Neal?" The reflection although that of his partner spoke when he spoke. Peter gawked, trying to figure out what this meant. How could he be staring at his reflection but seeing Neal instead? He tried to wrap his mind around it when he heard voices around him again.

"_Peter... what's wrong?_" Elizabeth's voice broke through the darkness. Peter listened, trying to figure out what she was saying. He heard movement and someone breathing loudly as if in panic.

"_How can... it's not possible!_" He heard a familiar voice speaking, one he heard rarely at least not from his current perspective. Peter felt himself swimming upstream or so it felt as he pushed through the darkness. He had to see who was talking.

"_Honey, I'm sorry. Did you want to go?_" Elizabeth's voice was worried, but who was she talking to? Peter had to know. He felt an odd sensation and pain washed over him like an icy breeze. He gasped for air, mouth gaping as he felt himself begin to wake up. Eyes fluttered open and he heard El and the other person make sounds of surprise.

"Peter, he's waking up! I'll call a doctor." He heard footsteps hurrying away and then the same panicked breathing continuing, a voice whispering to themselves.

"It's not possible... it can't be..."

Peter opened his eyes and found himself focusing in on the voice, staring at the blurry figure a moment. He blinked several times, trying to see the figure clearer. Finally he could see who stood there; Who had been speaking to his wife. They stared at each other a moment, the other man looking afraid if not terrified. He felt a similar fear, unsure of what he was seeing till El walked back in with a doctor.

"He's just woken up, doctor." He heard her voice, soft and worried but she didn't come to his side, she stayed by the other man's side. He wanted her with him but someone else had her attention. Someone who looked exactly like him.


	3. Chapter 3

**(Chapter 3)**

Neal stared at himself on the bed in ICU. He saw clear blue eyes staring back at him, a strange sensation overcoming him. He felt like he was looking at a reflection of himself moving out of sync. The person that looked like him seemed just as surprised, something about the expression underneath the respirator familiar.

"Peter? Peter... come on honey. We have to go." Elizabeth started to slowly steer Neal away from the figure, their eyes maintaining contact till he was out of the room. Neal was barely aware of Elizabeth helping him into a wheelchair outside and rolling him down the hallway. He suddenly came to, looking around as he saw they were nearly outside the hospital. A nurse was standing with him as Elizabeth walked away to get the car. Neal blinked, unsure what to think as he sat there and replayed the scene in his mind.

"Peter... are you ready?" Neal looked up, Elizabeth glancing at him worriedly. He shook his head.

"I have to go back. I have to know..." She shushed him gently, placing a finger to his lips.

"The doctors have to evaluate Neal first, honey. Let me take you home to rest and we'll come back tomorrow. Ok?" Neal looked at her unsure what to say or think. He was Peter, or she thought and everyone else thought he was. So if he was Peter...

Neal stood, walking over to the Taurus and slipped inside, Elizabeth closing the door once he was settled. He pulled the seat-belt around him and leaned against the window, staring out. How could he be Peter? He was Neal! He felt like Neal and yet his reflection said otherwise. He sighed to himself and found himself falling into a light sleep.

He found himself dreaming of a room, something similar to Peter and El's den. The room was cozy with lots of photographs framed and hung around the room along with other memorabilia. Neal found himself glancing at the pictures seeing some of things he never thought possible to shoot. There were pics of work and co-workers along with friends, places, acquaintances and of course El. She was the most prominent of all the figures as was Neal. He found it fascinating at the amount of photographs in the room along with albums all full of memories it seemed. Neal opened one book marked simple '_Elizabeth_' and found himself looking at a wide array of photos of Peter's wife. The more he stared, the more it seemed the images lived and breathed, moving before him. It was slightly disorienting, Neal having to close the book after a while. He found a comfy chair and sat down, catching his breath.

So this was Peter's cache. He had no other way to describe it. The room was full of the things Peter liked and made him comfortable. Even the chair was quintessentially Peter. It was an overstuffed easy chair that reclined, the color nothing less than a beigey brown but stll nice. Neal leaned back into the chair and closed his eyes. He didn't understand what was going on but maybe by being here he could get a hint.

_Don't leave me El..._

The voice was faint but he recognized it as his friend's.

"Peter?" Neal looked around but saw no one else. Still the voice continued.

_El... I'm right here! Who is that man? Don't leave me! El!_

Neal could feel the anguish in that voice, Peter's voice.

"Peter? Where are you?" He kept looking for a source but saw no one.

_Don't leave me, El. I'm right here..._

The voice was fading away, other sounds interrupting. He heard the sound of a vehicle braking and the sound of birds. Neal opened his eyes and found himself back in the Taurus. He sat up and stretched turning as a hand touched his shoulder. It was Elizabeth.

"Honey, we're home." Elizabeth exited the vehicle, moving around the front of the car to where he sat. Neal looked up to find they were at the Burke's residence, opening the door and exiting slowly. El took some things from the back of car then helped him up the stairs. Neal waited as she unlocked the door and nudged him inside.

"Go upstairs honey and I'll bring you something to drink if you like?" Elizabeth dropped the items by the door, taking his jacket and motioning for him to move when he didn't. Neal felt like he was an ursurper on Peter's life. He shouldn't be here but it was a dream, wasn't it? Neal walked slowly up the stairs looking at the pics on the wall and making his way to the guest room. He opened up the door and walked across the room, plopping down on the bed. He was curling up when he heard a little chuckle.

"Honey, why are you in the guest room?" He felt Elizabeth hug him and kiss his cheek. Neal tried not to respond feeling her react to his tension.

"I just want to be alone. Sorry." He turned and looked at her, an apologetic look on his face. She nodded, blue eyes looking rather sad if not confused. She kissed him on the lips, Neal trying his best to ignore it, her expression quizzical as she left him. He watched her close the door before he turned and curled up on his side, back to the door.

It felt wrong. Whatever this was... this hallucination... this dream... he had to wake up. He wasn't Peter and he didn't want to be Peter. How could he be someone he wasn't? It made no sense. He kept trying to figure out how his mind was working to come up with a scenario such as this. It had started when he saw Peter shot. He knew that much.

Neal had pushed his friend out of the way hoping to save him and still, Peter had been hurt. He had dreamed he saw Peter standing over him while his friend's body still lay on the ground staring skyward. After that the pain had passed and he had woken up to find himself looking down at his own body laying across the crate. Neal tried to remember all the details, the crate nothing more than a crate but the image of seeing himself laying there still and pale a frightening image. The crate was made of pine; he could smell the scent of it although at the time he hadn't been thinking about scents or images. There were words on the side of the box but his legs and arm covered them. He could make out a few items and some hay or something sticking through the slats.

The raid they'd been on had been for stolen antiquities from a local exhibit. Neal had gone in as a potential buyer and gotten information about the men being the same who had taken said items. What was in the collection, Neal had only gotten a cursory glance at the manifest. Most of the items had been of an oriental origin from what he could recall. There had been boxes of the things in the warehouse when he went in undercover but what was in the crate he had been lying on, he didn't know. He yawned, closing his eyes and finally falling asleep.

**()()()**

Peter wheezed, the doctor having removed the tubes and respirator finally. He had been moved to a new room now that he was doing better and had been diagnosed as stable. He lay in the hospital room alone and feeling morose. Why wasn't El here? Why had she left with that man or had that been some kind of strange hallucination? He didn't know. He just knew what he had seen or thought he saw. June had stopped by briefly but nobody else had come to see him. The odd thing was, June kept calling him Neal but for all he knew he was still dreaming. He had to be! What else would explain the fact everyone kept calling him Neal or Mr. Caffrey. Even the doctors and nurses did it, the nurses giving him little shy blushing looks as if he were some kind of handsome person. The same kind of looks they gave Neal when he noticed how the young man affected people. It was surreal if nothing else.

Peter sighed, trying to ease his breathing with a form of meditation he'd learned from a friend back in his academy days. Maybe he would wake up soon and El would be there. Perhaps he was still in the warehouse waiting for someone to come rescue them. He'd been hit in the head so this could all be a really bad nightmare if nothing else. Not to say he never thought being Neal would be interesting but this just wasn't him. He wasn't used to the attention much less he missed his wife. He wanted to feel her arms around him, smell her softly perfumed hair and kiss her. He closed his eyes and tried to think through what had happened to bring him here.

It had been a simple raid till he and Neal stuck behind. Nobody had known the man was hiding and Neal pushed him out of the way, taking the bullet. Peter had been terrified and angered, led at gunpoint back to the very warehouse they'd just swarmed. The man was going to kill him so he did what he could, he shot first or hoped to. It wasn't fast enough and he ended up getting a bullet in the skull, an explanation to what was happening now. This had to be one big hallucination. Peter continued to run through what he recalled happening and realized he had seen himself lying on the floor of the warehouse, eyes staring skyward as he rose to help his friend. He didn't even notice the dead gunman, his attention on Neal. He didn't want the young man to die after trying to save him and he thought he had heard Neal speaking. Neal was saying something. He touched the young man's shoulder to get closer and that's when he felt the pull. He found himself looking up but found his breath catching in his throat. He saw Neal standing over him looking down and then moving away before disappearing like a ghost into his own body.

Peter sat up a bit. He had never had an out of body experience before but that's all he could think of to explain what had happened. He had seen Neal's spirit and he had seen both their bodies from an angle not possible in the condition he had been in. He wasn't dead was he? What about Neal? If this was a dream, where was his partner? Where was the real Neal? Who had that man been that looked like him? There had been something strangely familiar about their expression but he just couldn't place it. His tired mind muddled over the thoughts as he found himself falling back to sleep.

**()()()**

It was another three or four days before the doctors said he was well enough to leave the hospital. Peter was disappointed when June came to pick him up but smiled regardless. He had hoped El would show but under the circumstances he couldn't imagine why she would come to pick him up if he was Neal Caffrey. He sighed, excusing himself briefly to use the bathroom in the hospital room one last time. Peter closed the door, leaning back on it tiredly. It still hurt to move, his breath catching at times but he dealt with the pain and limped over to the sink, turning it on without looking at the mirror as he splashed his face. Finally he peered into the glass and froze.

"Neal?" Peter stared at the reflection in the glass trying to reason why his reflection looked like his partner's. He turned and looked around the small room but saw no one but himself. He heard a knock at the door.

"Neal? The nurse is here. Are you ok?" Her voice was soft and comforting like a mother's but he continued to stare at the image that moved as he moved but looked so much like Neal.

"Neal? Neal answer me." June's voice was full of worry now and Peter just shook his head, eyes still staring.

"I'm ok... June. Be right out." He heard Neal's voice talking when he spoke and saw the reflection mimicking the same motions. Maybe he was insane but he _was_ Neal! Peter just stared, finally getting enough sense to turn off the water and dry off his face. He opened up the door and stepped slowly out of the bathroom. June looked at him her eyes widening as she saw the expression on his face.

"Neal, what's the matter? You look like you've seen a ghost!" She walked over and hugged him gently, helping him into a wheelchair held by a nurse. Peter shook his head as he let himself be led to the chair and sat down. He just stared ahead thinking about what he had seen. It was like the dream where he'd seen Neal in the mirror. The dream. If he was dreaming he was dreaming did that mean this was really happening? He shivered at the thought, feeling someone drape a jacket over him. It was June.

"Poor baby. When we get you home, I'll make you some soup. Ok?" She gently squeezed his shoulder and he nodded vaguely.

He was Neal. There was no other explanation. He still hoped he was going to wake up, closing his eyes and dreaming of Elizabeth but waking up to himself still being pushed in the wheelchair to a Bentley. June and nurse helped him inside and the nurse waved as they left, taking the wheelchair back inside with her. He sighed, watching the scenery flash by the window. He heard June move next to him.

"El wanted me to tell you she apologizes for Peter not visiting. He's been bed ridden with a cold. Nothing serious. Maybe we can go visit him tomorrow?" She sounded hopeful and he nodded, glancing back to smile softly at her. He wasn't feeling the smile but he was grateful for her presence. He stared out the window but mostly he stared at the reflection of his face, Neal's face looking back at him. Why was this happening and why was he imagining he was Neal? It didn't make any sense!

Peter barely noticed when the car stopped and June had walked around to open the door for him.

"Are you coming?" She smiled at him in that matronly way of hers and he nodded as much as he could. She seemed to notice his disappointment as he slipped out of the vehicle and stood up. She offered her arm and he took it gladly, needing to feel that he was really there. June smiled at him, carrying his overnight bag, Neal's bag on her shoulder.

"Don't mope, Neal. Peter will come visit when he's feeling better." She grinned at him but there was a concern for him he couldn't deny. Peter nodded back feeling a smile form on his lips.

"I guess so. I would like to see him though if that's possible. You said tomorrow?" He was feeling happier thinking about seeing El more than anything. He watched June nod.

"Of course, dear. Now, go upstairs and rest. I'll bring you some food later." She squeezed him gently and watched him go up the stairs before disappearing into the dining room.

Peter walked up the familiar staircase towards his partner's rooms. It was a beautiful penthouse-type apartment at the top of June's palacious mansion home. Peter paused wanting to knock but remembering he was Neal so he could just go inside. He slowly grabbed the knob and opened the door, walking into an apartment somewhat nicer than his own home… well if he lived with '_cappuccino in the clouds_' perhaps. He smirked, walking into the room and glancing around it's space.

The room was neat and tidy with very little to identify that Neal lived there other than a few personal items. He always had the impression that his partner was a minimalist due to circumstances more than anything. He would have to be being in the line of work he was… had been in. Peter had barely thought that when he heard a cough.

" It's true that we don't know what we've got until we lose it, but it's also true that we don't know what we've been missing until it arrives."

Peter turned to see Mozzie standing there. The little guy was smiling in his own way, looking at him expectantly. Peter didn't know what to say since Mozzie never spoke to him much. He saw the little guy blink at him curiously.

"Cat got your tongue, Neal? What's wrong?" Mozzie walked inside and over to Peter looking up at him through those retro glasses of his. Peter blinked unsure of this familiarity.

"Neal… you're acting weird. Just talk to me already. Did something happen to The Suit? I thought he already went home, at least June said he was doing ok." Mozzie stared at him, Peter still trying to figure out what was going on.

"Fine, don't talk to me. I'll just tell you what I found out about the music box and Kate, then I'm going." Mozzie shuffled around the room, sitting on the sofa stiffly. Peter turned and looked at the little guy and after a moment went and joined him. He was afraid to talk thinking Mozzie would know if anyone would that he wasn't Neal. Maybe that would be a good thing? He wasn't sure but he still felt like he shouldn't betray that trust.

"Mozzie… You found something out?" Peter heard Neal's voice when he spoke, starting at that revelation. It was one of the reasons why he didn't want to talk. He wasn't sure he could deal with all of this. He saw Mozzie look at him.

"Yeah. Alex had some information about what might be inside the box that Fowler may have wanted." Mozzie sounded somewhat excited, Peter looking at him curiously. So Alex knew something? He saw Mozzie about to speak but held up a hand.

"Don't tell me." Peter stood up and walked over to the terrace doors, opening them and stepping outside. After a moment he felt a presence near him. It was Mozzie, the little guy looking up at him oddly.

"Neal, something's wrong. I know you wanted me to find this for you but now you don't want to know? Talk to me." Mozzie pulled on his arm ever so gently but Peter shrugged him off.

"I can't listen to this right now. I only just got out of the hospital. I nearly died. Just… leave me alone. Please?" Peter was thinking about El more than anything. How much he missed her and how much he didn't want to hear Neal's personal business at a time like this. He felt Mozzie let go of his arm, footsteps retreating.

"Fine, I'll leave you alone. I thought I was doing you a favor but you wallow." Mozzie sounded angry but more than that he sounded hurt. Peter sighed, turning to look at the little guy and seeing the back of his head as he left the room.

Peter looked out over the city, the view beautiful but it wasn't his view. It was lovely but all he could do was look in the direction of his home which he couldn't see and think about El.

"Neal?" June's voice broke through his thoughts as he turned. She was smiling, a small try of food in her hands.

"I brought you a late lunch. Hungry?"


	4. Chapter 4

**(****Chapter 4)**

Neal rolled over and looked at the door. He had been moping around the guest room of the Burke's for the past week. Correction, he had been hiding in the guest room for fear of doing something wrong. He didn't want to compromise his friendship with Peter, dream or not.

Elizabeth didn't seem to understand why her husband was acting oddly and this hallucination that involved him playing Peter was becoming slightly uncomfortable. He didn't want to be cruel to El but she wasn't Kate. He liked her, he found her fascinating but she belonged to Peter. She was more a sisterly type to him.

Neal sighed, glancing at the door again before he rolled over and curled up under the covers. He wasn't ready to deal with anything but maybe… it wasn't fair to Elizabeth. She wouldn't know why her husband was acting this way or why he was sleeping in the guest room. Peter wouldn't do this. He sat up and pulled the covers aside, rolling out of bed and standing up.

He wasn't sure why, but Neal grabbed up some clothes and made his way to the bathroom. It was an odd sensation staying here although he had done it before. Neal locked the door and showered, quickly dressing afterwards. He exited and made his way downstairs looking around. Elizabeth was no where to be seen. Neal was almost thankful for that at the moment, noticing Satchmo staring at him. He glanced at the dog who sniffed curiously then gave a little whine.

"Hey boy." He reached to pet the dog but Satchmo moved back slightly, his whining a bit louder. Neal backed off, holding out his hand palm up.

"I know… I smell different. I'm not your master, Satchmo. It's Neal." He continued to speak softly, holding out his hand till the dog moved closer and licked his hand.

"Good boy. I guess if nobody else knows it you would. You know I'm not Peter." He pet the dog, scratching him behind the ears before he stood and walked into the kitchen. Neal looked around in the fridge finding some fresh sandwiches. He sniffed at them and discovered they were deviled ham. He put them back and grabbed a small Tupperware full of fruit, closing the fridge and munching from the bowl. It was then he found a note on the table.

"_**Dear Peter,**_

_**I left you your favorite sandwiches in the fridge if you feel better. I needed to go into work for a little bit but I will be home soon. Call me!**_

_**El"**_

Neal smiled at the note, a guilty feeling making him close the Tupperware and replace it. Peter should be here, not him. He had no right to replace his friend. He sighed, looking back as he heard Satchmo whine again and turn, running out of the kitchen as if excited by something.

"Hey boy… Satch?" Neal wondered what made the dog act so weird when he heard the doorbell ring. Neal froze, making his way to the front door, the huge lab waiting by the door staring patiently, happily almost. He watched the dog, walking over to the door and peering through the peep hole. He was startled by the view.

Neal turned and walked away from the door, pacing in the den nervously. He heard Satchmo whine and scratch slightly at the door. Neal turned and saw the dog staring at him as if waiting for some action.

"Ok, if you want me to let him in I will but I don't know who he is even if you claim to." Neal felt kind of stupid talking to a dog but at least it knew who he was. He pet the dog, moving him aside as he slowly unlocked and opened the door.

**()()()**

It was awkward if nothing else. Peter had taken a cab to his house and looked from the outside longingly. What would El say when he told her who he was. He wanted to let her know. Whoever that man was with her, he was not him. It didn't take long for Peter to ring the bell. It took only a few minutes the sound of Satchmo whining just inside the door. He heard the bolt unlocked and then he saw him.

They just stared at one another, blue eyes meeting brown. Peter saw the man who looked like him staring curiously if not cautiously back. Satchmo licked at his hand and whined, Peter looking down at the yellow lab, petting him.

"Hey boy." Peter felt the dog push against his hand and then pull on it in a familiar fashion. He blinked seeing a reaction from the other man, the man that looked like him.

"Looks like he wants you to walk him, Neal." Peter said, brown eyes staring at him.

"I guess. So, where is El?"

"El? She had some errands to run."

They continued to stare till Peter finally let Neal inside. Neal walked into the den and looked around, his expression that of someone coming home. Peter watched his partner cautiously.

"How is June?"

"She's doing fine."

They were quiet again, Neal continuing to look around the house as if searching for something. Peter sat down on the sofa, the young man following soon after.

"How is your cold?" Neal looked at Peter curiously, the agent shrugging.

"For now, ok. I've been sleeping in the guest room. I didn't want El to get sick." That comment brought a sigh of relief it seemed from Neal, Peter noticing.

They sat there uncomfortably till there was a sound of someone opening up the door and El walked in.

"Neal? I didn't know you were going to come by." She saw both men sitting on the sofa and smiled although it seemed a bit forced. She hung up her coat and dropped her purse and keys by the door on a small table. Neal stood up and walked over to say hi, hugging her lightly while Peter sat and seemed unsure of something.

"I'm glad to see you're feeling better, Neal. How is June?" She hugged him back, looking over at Peter curiously. He finally rose as if remembering something and moved to hug her when Neal moved aside. She looked unhappy about something but quickly hid it.

"June is good. She was asking how Peter was so I came by to say Hi. Maybe I should leave…" Neal sounded a bit uncertain but he stayed nearby, his blue eyes gazing at her.

"No, no… we were going to have lunch. I can make you some Chicken Salad sandwiches. I already made some of Peter's favorites." She smiled again although it really did seem forced as she moved away from them both and walked over to the kitchen. Neal stared after her with a certain longing, Peter watching him.

"What's wrong with El? What did you do?" It was a sudden comment as Neal turned and glared at Peter. The agent flushed looking uncertain.

"I… I didn't do anything." Peter sounded so young all of a sudden and Neal so much more mature. He sighed.

"She's unhappy. You did something. Damn this dream… if I could I'd just…" Neal paused realizing he couldn't say that even if he really was Peter. He saw the fake Peter look at him.

"Dream? It's a nightmare. I want to go back to my apartment." Peter sounded very young and almost petulant, his mannerisms that of someone familiar. Neal looked at him a moment.

"I don't know who you are, but…" He stopped when Elizabeth came back in, looking between the two men curiously. Neal smiled but Peter looked as if he were going to be sick. She looked uncertain but smiled and placed a tray on the table.

"I have a few of each sandwiches. Pick your favorite." She scurried back into the kitchen and brought out a pitcher of what looked like lemonade. Peter and Neal went to sit and sat at opposite ends of the table.

Neal grabbed up a sandwich, sniffed at it and took a happy bite. He smiled broadly at Elizabeth and grinned.

"This is the best sandwich ever. Thank you El." She was smiling despite herself and nodded.

"Thank you, Neal but uhm… I thought you didn't like deviled ham." She looked somewhat confused which grew when she saw her husband sniffing unhappily at a deviled ham sandwich and grabbing up a chicken salad sandwich.

Neal stared at the sandwich but continued to eat.

"It's ok. I like anything you make, El." He smiled back continuing to eat the sandwich and looking over at Peter as if realizing something.

"Alright… " She seemed confused by what was going on but went with it as she grabbed a sandwich of her own and joined in on the feast.

**()()()**

Neal leaned back against the sofa, looking up as Peter stared at him. The agent sat beside him and stared curiously, looking back to see if they were alone.

"I know you're not who you seem to be. You can't be." Peter's voice was soft, a hushed whisper. He saw Neal glance coolly back at him.

"And who do you think I am?" Neal's tone was curious, a wry smile on his lips. Peter continued to size him up.

"I don't know but I have ideas despite this being a dream. Maybe if I figure this out, I'll wake up." Neal started at that, the smile growing to a laugh.

"If anyone's dreaming, it's me. So what is your theory, Einstein?" Neal sounded even more sarcastic than normal, Peter smirking back.

"Well, when I got shot in the chest somehow I felt guilty that my partner was killed even after I tried to save him so… now I'm dreaming I'm him. I can't think of any other explanation for it." Neal sat up straight looking at the agent, eyes narrowing.

"Shot in the chest? I was shot in the head. Neal?" Neal put a hand on the agent's shoulder and stared into those brown eyes really looking to see who was there. Peter stared back also curious.

"Peter? But how?" They looked at one another realizing suddenly what had happened. Neal scratched at his chin in a curiously Peteresque manner. He grinned.

"Wow… so you're me and I'm you. What an odd dream. If only I was really talking to you." Neal leaned back and sighed, Peter shaking him.

"But is it your dream or mine? We can't both be conscious of what's going on and yet we both seem to be aware. What does it mean?" Peter was wide eyed, brown eyes glittering. Neal gazed back at him.

"True… You're avoiding Elizabeth to save my feelings and I avoided Mozz to save yours." Neal saw Peter stare at him.

"Why would you avoid Mozz? How is he?" Peter seemed unusually interested in the little guy which made Neal grin.

"He said he had info about something I figured you should hear. I didn't want to break what little trust you two have even if this is a dream. I guess that's why you've been hiding in the guest room." He looked a bit worried but Peter nodded back.

"Yeah. I couldn't reciprocate when El kissed me. Uhm…" Peter blushed making Neal stare back at him with a little frown.

"I hope not! Still… How do we fix this? There has to be a reason you're me and I'm you, Neal." Neal sighed, even though he was really Peter he was unable to figure out what this leading to or why. He saw Peter give a kind of _a-ha _sort of moment.

"I was dreaming about the accident. I thought I heard your voice wishing I was ok and I was hoping you were ok. What if that caused us to swap places?" Peter's voice sounded more like Neal's all the time.

"Hmmm… like _Freaky Friday_? I don't know about that. I'm still under the impression this is one big nightmare and I'm going to open my eyes and find myself in the hospital. Jones found us. I know that much. I could still be unconscious." Neal scratched at his chin looking a bit uncertain but nodding.

"That has to be it. I'm still in the hospital in a coma. The bullet knocked me out cold. Only explanation." Neal seemed happy with that, Peter looking confused.

"Ok, but if you're dreaming, what about me? I feel like I'm awake too. I can't be a figment of your imagination. I must be in the hospital as well. I got shot in the chest." Neal poked at his chest although he looked like Peter.

"How do you explain that?"


	5. Chapter 5

**(Chapter 5)**

Neal looked at Peter who stared back, both seeing themselves although in a way they had never anticipated. Peter was the first one to suggest what should happen, thinking this was his dream and wanting to wake up as soon as possible to return to his lovely wife.

"Look, obviously this is one of those dreams someone has to do something before the solution comes to pass and we go back to being ourselves. So… much as I hate to say it, we're going to have to find a middle ground on how we solve this." Peter who looked like Neal said, still making sure the coast was clear of El. He continued after a moment.

"I can't have you staying with my wife and you don't want me to know what Mozzie knows much as it would be nice. Trust me, he was ready to spill something to you, err me the other day. Besides, it was odd having him speak to me at all!" Peter/Neal sounded somewhat bemused despite the fact. Neal/Peter nodded back.

"Ok, we both want to retain some semblance of our lives despite this fiasco. So how did Mozzie react when you, err I turned him down for info? I'm sure he was confused if not a bit unhappy." Neal/Peter sounded worried if nothing else.

"Yeah. I think it's something you need to hear for yourself and not from me." Peter/Neal left it at that and sighed, looking up as El peeked back into the room. She looked a bit concerned, her eyes on who she thought was her husband. Neal/Peter turned and saw her looking at him and blushed slightly, his eyes looking at El but his voice low and speaking out the side of his mouth to Peter.

"Uhm… Peter…" Neal sounded nervous but Peter nodded back at him whispering.

"Act like I would act." Peter/Neal nudged Neal/Peter who stood and looked at El. He walked over and took her hand in his, trying not to turn and look at Peter. He whispered something to her, hugging her close and she hugged him tightly back suddenly.

"Maybe I should go..." Peter/Neal said although it was his home and wife, he knew if he were actually Neal that would be the cue to leave. He watched Neal with his wife and felt a pang of something although he wouldn't call it jealousy. He saw Neal/Peter turn and look at him.

"Let me give you a ride home, Neal." Peter said, El smiling a bit happier than before.

**()()()**

Peter sighed, pacing the penthouse apartment of Neal's. He may look like Neal but he wasn't him. Neal had dropped him off, Peter threatening him with death if he wrecked the Taurus or did anything else that would tamper with his livelihood. Neal had nodded hanging around till he received a call from El asking where he was. Peter had told him what to say, the young man noticing his discomfort.

"It won't be too much longer, Peter. I'm sure we'll wake up soon."

Peter went out on the terrace and stared across the city at evening. It was beautiful but no matter how much this place intrigued him, he wished he was sharing it with El.

"Neal?" June's voice cut through his thoughts waking him from his reverie. Peter turned and looked at her.

"Hey..." He wasn't sure what to say or even what to think. She seemed to know something was wrong.

"I have some dinner for you if you're hungry. I can bring you up a tray." Her voice trailed off and he nodded with a smile, a small rumble coming from his stomach at the mention of food. He hadn't eaten anything since lunch with Neal and El.

"Thank you June."

**()()()**

Peter ended up going downstairs to eat with June in the dining room. They had a nice little chat about things, his hostess smiling.

"I think you've been taking lessons from Peter. You seem different from a few days ago." She seemed to look at him, really look at him as if trying to figure something out then shook her head.

"Something the matter, June?" Peter wanted to see what it was she was thinking about but she just shrugged.

"Just the doddering thoughts of an old woman. Nothing important. I should let you rest. You'll be joining Peter at work again soon." He was about to say something but stopped himself and nodded.

"Yes. He's going back tomorrow and I'll be going back in a few days." Peter stood when June did, his chest hurting a bit when he did. He gave a little gasp, June looking at him worriedly.

"Neal?" She looked at him concerned but he smiled.

"I'm good. No worries."

**()()()**

Peter wasn't good. He went to sleep; wearing what he could find that was comfy in Neal's wardrobe. His chest was hurting despite everything but _cowboyed up_ and curled up in the comfortable bed. It was a very luxurious bed, even the sheets were nice but he missed his bed and his wife. Peter sighed, closing his eyes and relaxing.

"Honey, what's wrong? Tell me. I'm worried about you. Is it Neal?" He could hear El talking only not to him. He heard someone that sounded like him respond.

"Not just Neal... Still feeling a bit off from the shooting. I don't quite feel myself." He knew it was Neal talking but why was he hearing it? He felt himself becoming more a part of the conversation, opening his eyes and finding himself looking at his wife.

"I understand. I'm sorry if I've been clingy. I was so worried about you." Peter looked at his wife, feeling like he was there with her and hugged her. She looked surprised.

"No, I should be apologizing." He heard his own voice, not Neal's speaking. It was nice but temporary as he woke up and found himself back at Neal's. He sighed.

**()()()**

Neal was talking to Elizabeth as Peter. They were in '_their_' bedroom but he felt uncomfortable. He shouldn't be here. He wanted to be back in his apartment at June's. He suddenly felt a bit light-headed, feeling himself looking down at the situation. He was hovering, bodiless and seeing the scene. He felt a twinge of something in his chest for just an instant then he was back looking at El again.

"It's ok honey. I understand." She hugged him, rolling over to turn off the light. Neal sat up a few minutes longer, looking at the ceiling before shutting off the light and rolling over with his back to El as he fell asleep.

**()()()**

A month passed and still both men were trapped in the other's body. Neal was now technically an agent but only because he was Peter. He was beginning to see a whole new aspect to his partner's job he never saw before. He even had a kind of heart to heart with Hughes who noticed '_Peter_' was acting different. Neal acted as he thought Peter would and that seemed to solve the issue but it was hard. He found himself doing more things that he would do if he were in his body.

Peter on the other hand was somewhat bored out of his mind and a bit annoyed at people in general. He was seeing the various forms of distrust and bullying if only on a low level that Neal had to deal with everyday. It wasn't from his own people but other parties. It bothered him to see that Neal wasn't treated well but at least his own people were good enough to treat him as a part of the team and stand up for him when needed; That made him feel secure. He noticed that his team had begun to whisper about how Neal and Peter were acting so very different from one another. He guessed it was harder than he thought to act like Neal and vice versa.

Peter sighed, looking up as a shadow passed and stopped by his desk. It was Neal. He looked at his face, the innocent wide-eyed look of Neal behind it and saw how very tired it was. He wondered what Neal saw in his own face seeing it from the outside.

"I need a break. Want to get some lunch?" Neal sounded frustrated if nothing else but Peter nodded back, standing.

"Sounds good to me. Maybe if you've got a moment, we can look over that manifest from the raid. I think you said something about the items involved. Would be interesting to see if that could have caused this problem. I really want to get back to my own life." Peter/Neal said it low enough for Neal/Peter's ears.

"I've been looking but there were a lot of items and I don't quite recall the crate number. If I could see past my arm I could get it." Neal combed his hair back in a way only Neal could, Peter hissing at him.

"We need to act more like each other. I've heard whispers... but we can talk about it when we're at lunch. Let me drive today."

**()()()**

The drive was actually pretty nice, Peter driving the car out to the waterfront not too far away for them to eat their food. Neal was quiet, looking out over the water thoughtfully, Peter watching him.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Peter saw Neal turn to look at him, those brown eyes staring back at him although in his mind he saw Neal's blue eyes and dark hair looking back. Neal seemed to be doing the same when he looked at Peter, seeing his face there instead of his own when they spoke. It was surreal if nothing else.

"How long is this supposed to last? Are you asleep or am I? I want to wake up already!" Neal's voice was petulant, Peter smirking some.

"You're seeing how hard it is to be an agent." He sounded less than condescending when he spoke, his own expression thoughtful.

"And I'm seeing the problems you're having. We'll have to fix that too." Peter watched Neal shrug at him.

"I'm a grown up. I can deal but I understand a bit better what you go through for me." He turned and smiled slightly at the agent. Peter smiled back before his face suddenly blanched and he slumped forward, Neal barely catching him.

"Peter? Peter!" Neal was shaking his friend when he saw the small splotch of blood appearing through his friend's shirt around his shoulder. He ducked behind the bench when he heard another pop, the first one having been drowned out by their conversation. Someone was shooting at them with a silencer. Peter looked up at him, eyes unfocused.

"Neal? What... happened?" He winced as Neal pressed him to the ground as more shots rang out nearby.

"I don't know. Some one's shooting at us. Hold on, ok?" Neal reached for his phone when he felt a shadow standing over suddenly. He looked up but it was too late as something hard clipped him behind the ear. Peter watched as the goon, a tall man with dirty blond hair, brown eyes and a dark suit looked down at him with a menacing grin. The man pulled out a walkie-talkie and spoke into it.

"The con is here along with his keeper. What do you want us to do with them?" The man's voice had a slightly Italian hint to it. Peter wondered who they were working for, several cases open involving various mobsters but which one would know they were specifically on the case? He tried to act a little less aware than he was, watching as the goon listened and nodded into the walkie-talkie then crouched down beside Neal and himself.

"Looks like we're going for a little ride, con." The goon grasped Peter's ankle in his hands securely and pulled out a large pocket knife. Peter's eyes grew despite himself. The goon smiled dangerously, cutting the anklet and letting his ankle go before another couple of goons showed up. Two carried Neal away; Peter watching them before the one who had the knife lifted him up, holding the knife at his face.

"Behave or your Fed friend gets it. Kapish?" Peter nodded with a gulp, the goon smiling as he grasped at his wounded shoulder and pushed him along.

They were taken to a black limo; Peter's arms pulled tightly behind him and bound as were Neal's. He looked at the figure of himself laying across the seat slumped and unconscious. Peter wanted to say something but felt the knife pressed against his neck as he was pushed inside.

"We know you were watching our boss. We already took care of the snitch on the case and now we just have you two." The goon turned Peter's head around to look at him, chin grasped tightly within his huge hand. He saw Neal's face reflected in the man's eyes.

"Scared, con? I was told you were quite the mouth. Try me so I have a reason to use this knife." Peter gulped as the knife started to press into his Adam's apple. He heard the goon laugh before another voice cut in.

"Don't do anything stupid, Guillermo. We need him. Boss said he might prove useful for our next scam. I think he'll do anything to keep the Fed alive." The other goon snickered, kicking at Neal's unconscious form. Peter felt anger rise in him but he held back for Neal's sake. He felt a little off anyway, the shoulder wound burning, warmth still trickling down his chest from the gunshot. He shivered ever so slightly, the loss of blood making him cold as he lay on the floor of the limo, head leaning back against the seat. The goon nudged him with his foot.

"Maybe. He looks a bit scrawny and you did wing him, Marcos." The man's voice was fading as he felt himself succumbing to the wound, body shuddering slightly as he passed out.

**()()()**

Peter found himself back at the site of the raid. He was dreaming but he was there. He was looking around nothing change except for the fact he was the only person present. Neal's body and his own were gone as was the gunman's. He saw a large pine crate stained on top with something red. Peter walked over to the crate remembering that it was the same crate Neal had been placed on. There was a lot number along the side and top. Peter pulled out a notepad in his dream and started to write it down.

"Got it." Peter turned to leave when he felt a kind of presence near him. He turned and tried to figure out what he was feeling when he realized he was grabbing up a crowbar and opening up the box he had just written the lot number of. He pulled the lid away and dug around in the hay, stained with blood, till he found it.

"What is this?" He said aloud to no one, pulling a strange little statue out of the pile of artifacts. It had a bit of blood on its dark surface which appeared to be carved from obsidian. He glanced at the statuette which had two faces on both sides of its head indicating some strange duality he thought.

"Are you the reason behind all of this?" Peter felt an almost answering chill down his spine in response as he gazed more closely at the item. He thought he saw the eyes glimmer despite the light before he woke up.

Peter looked around, finding himself stretched out on a cot, strapped down securely. His shoulder had been given a little TLC, a makeshift bandage on it which was bleeding through. He lifted his head to look around the gray drab room to find No sign of Neal anywhere. He wondered where they were being held and where his partner was when he heard a door open somewhere behind him. He feigned unconsciousness as he heard a dragging sound and saw two men drop something on the floor nearby, tying a limp figure to a set of manacles from the rafters. It was Neal. He closed his eyes again before they saw.

"Is he awake yet?" He heard footsteps and then someone poked him but he acted out of it.

"Still out. Must be the pain meds we gave him. Let's check on him later." He heard them speaking still, softer as their footsteps disappeared and the door opened and closed.

Peter opened his eyes and looked across at the limp form of Neal.

"Neal? Neal?" He hissed so nobody could hear but Neal but the young man didn't respond, his face looking somewhat bruised and battered… well his face. Peter flinched.

"What did they do to you, Neal?"


	6. Chapter 6

**(Chapter 6)**

Hughes was surprised when he didn't find Burke in his office or Caffrey downstairs in the lobby at his desk. He walked across the lobby to Jones' desk and saw the young agent look up at him, standing.

"Sir?" Jones looked surprised. Hughes made a motion for the young man to be at ease.

"I was wondering if you'd seen Burke or Caffrey today?" Hughes sounded concerned, Jones nodding.

"They went to lunch but it's nearly 4 now and they haven't returned." Jones didn't look concerned but he did look curious. Hughes nodded, staring at both Neal's desk and up at Peter's office.

"Let me know if you see them and send them to my office."

**()()()**

June had been thinking about how Neal and Peter had acted since the shooting. It had seemed to her that both men had taken on considerable characteristics of the other. She had a luncheon date but was interrupted from leaving by a ringing phone. The housekeeper was out for the afternoon so she answered it before the machine did.

"Oh, Elizabeth. How are you? Peter? No, I haven't seen him today. Neal? No, he's not home yet. Is there anything the matter?" She listened to Elizabeth Burke talking and nodded off and on.

"Hmmm... well if I hear anything, I'll be sure to let you know. Not a problem, dear. Bye."

**()()()**

Neal faded in and out of consciousness as the men beat at him. They taunted him about being a government agent and a Fed among other things. They used Peter as a bargaining chip calling him a '_pet con_.' Neal was seeing a whole other side to Peter's life being him but this was far worse than anything he could have imagined. His body ached from the beating, his mind weary and tired. He wondered how Peter was faring as himself. He hadn't seen his friend since he'd been knocked out.

"Had enough Fed?" The goon smacked him hard across the face, open palmed. Neal looked up at the man, eyes narrowed, expression rebellious. He knew Peter wouldn't give in and neither would he. Peter was depending on him.

Neal tried to free himself but they had him tied down pretty good, very little for him to pick. Besides, he had to contend with Peter's slightly larger fingers and arms. Neal was used to his own lanky form that he could manipulate to squeeze through cuffs and ropes. Peter's form was a bit more of a pain to manipulate but it didn't matter when they were beating him pretty good. Neal was breathing hard, his whole body aching, head slumped till his chin touch his chest.

"I think the Fed's had enough. What do you think, Jared?" Neal watched the men talking around him, his body tense with expectation.

"Maybe... maybe not." The voice came from behind him, Neal trying to turn his head but feeling the jolt of electricity as it hit him in the back of the neck. He cried out but something was stuffed into his mouth, tape pulled over his lips. They continued to shock him till he finally lost all sense of anything, body shivering. They pulled the tape from his mouth, Neal spitting the rags out.

"It's a shame we're going to have to kill him and his _friend_ once the job is done." Neal started slightly at the revelation, not that he didn't think it wouldn't happen but he didn't want Peter to get hurt.

"Bastards..." He spit out before someone forcibly bared his neck and he saw a syringe in front of his face.

"A little something to keep you quiet." The goon's voice was cold as he pushed the needle into Neal's neck and he began to feel a strange coolness overcome him. He shivered at the drug's effects as he saw his vision begin to blur and everything spun drunkenly before him into darkness.

The darkness was almost comforting after the beating he'd had. Neal let himself float there, barely conscious of the voices just outside his periphery. After a moment the darkness seemed to evaporate and he found himself looking up at the ceiling of a gray drab room. He tried to move but winced as his shoulder hurt him. Shoulder? Neal looked to see that his shoulder had been wrapped but he was securely strapped onto a cot.

"Where am I?" Neal felt confused, looking around the room and seeing a figure hanging limply from the ceiling. He pulled on his bonds but they had tied him up pretty well.

"Peter?" He was actually seeing Peter as himself, Neal realizing they had traded back again. It had been happening off and on at various times but not enough for them to stay as themselves. It had been a good three weeks since the last time he had been himself, the interval getting longer he thought. Peter looked bad, the beating Neal had taken as him obvious now that he could see it.

"Peter?" He hissed at the agent but there was only the faint sound of shallow wheezy breath. Peter wasn't moving, Neal struggling to free himself while he was in his own body. It was their only hope at this point. He figured it wouldn't matter how much he hurt, Peter was hurting worse and he already had a gunshot wound. Neal psyched himself out, hearing the '_pop_' of his right shoulder. He gave a small choked cry but it was still quiet enough not to be obvious.

"Neal?" He looked up to see Peter staring at him, eyes partially open. Neal saw the agent's brown eyes looking at him curiously despite one eye being blackened and the other partially swollen shut from the beating. His voice was hoarse and barely a whisper. Neal nodded, pulling hard until his arm was finally free. He huffed and panted in pain, his breath coming hard but he had to finish freeing himself. He reached over despite his arms being slack and pulled the straps on his left arm free before he slumped back and closed his eyes.

"Neal..." He heard the soft rattling of the manacles and opened up his eyes again seeing his friend there. Neal managed to sit up and stand, stumbling towards his friend as if drunk. His body ached but he had to free them or they'd be killed. Neal reached up with his good arm and unfastened the manacles, Peter dropping to the floor with a soft thud. Neal collapsed to his knees beside the agent, wavering as if he might faint.

"Peter, what's happening?" He reached out to touch his friend when suddenly he was watching himself again. He saw Peter stare back at him through his eyes and faint.

"Peter?" Neal was Peter again, watching his body collapse, the one arm hanging loosely at his friend's side. They had traded bodies. He sighed, looking around for some means of escape when he spied a vent. Neal set to work opening it up and dragged Peter through before squeezing in himself and pulling the vent back into place. His whole body ached but apparently it was up to him to get them out.

"Hopefully this leads somewhere." Neal winced, carrying Peter on his back. At least he was light, being in his body rather than his own. Neal actually felt a bit clumsy in Peter's form but did what he could to maneuver around the ventilation system. It didn't take long he found another vent that smelled of fresh air. Neal peered through, saw no one guarding the area then pushed it open with his feet. He dragged Peter out with him, the action wearing him out as he fought his own aches and pains. When he got a chance, he removed his belt and made a sling for Peter's arm.

"Looks like we're in the warehouse district again. Fun..." Neal muttered under this breath, pulling Peter into a fireman's carry and making his way with a limp down a vacant lot towards the street. He found a pay phone and gently lays Peter beside him on the pavement against the wall. Neal dialed Jones' number from memory, leaning tiredly against the phone.

"_Jones, FBI._" Neal heard Jones' voice and felt relieved.

"Jones, it's Peter. "


	7. Chapter 7

**(Chapter 7)**

"Peter? Where are you? Is Caffrey there?" Jones sounded surprised if not relieved, Neal blinking to keep himself awake as his vision blurred ever so slightly. He heard a soft groan beside him from Peter who was beginning to wake up.

"We're in bad shape. How soon can you trace this call and find us?" Neal felt himself starting to fade but held on. He heard movement on the other end of the line and voices in the background.

"Doing that now, Peter. We'll be out there in the next 30 minutes if not sooner. How are you doing? How's Caffrey?" Neal turned and looked at his friend, arm falling out of the makeshift sling, gun wound bleeding a bit.

"Not that good. Not sure how much longer I can..." He paused hearing voices nearby. It sounded like the goons that had beat on him earlier. Crap! He had hoped they wouldn't notice them gone for a while longer.

"Trace this phone, Jones." Neal dropped the receiver before getting an answer and lifted up Peter as much as he could, half-carrying, half-dragging his friend as he ducked out onto the street and looked for a place to hide. He saw a delivery truck and limped quickly over, opening up the back. It was full of flowers, Neal ducking inside after he pulled Peter up and closed the doors. He peered out the small windows to see the goons looking around for them although unsuccessfully. He smiled, making sure Peter was comfortable before leaning back against a crate and passing out.

**()()()**

"Hey buddy! Hey!" Someone was nudging Peter as he came to, looking up at the source of the voice as he slowly opened his eyes. He noticed a young guy looking down at him, dark hair, brown eyes but blurry. Peter moved ever so slightly wincing as he did so and seeing the man looking at him with a concerned look. He looked around to see they weren't in the warehouse district anymore. The vehicle had taken them into the city again.

"I'm calling 9-1-1." The man sounded worried, phone in hand. Peter looked down at himself to see what the damage was and found he was back in his own body if only for the moment. He looked across to see Neal laying flat across the truck floor, arm slung loosely in his belt, shoulder stained red where the gun shot wound had started to bleed again. Why had they changed back? He shook his head to be sure he was awake but that made him dizzy, nauseated and he rolled over out of the truck and threw up on the pavement. The man continued to speak to him as calmly as possible.

"What's your name? Can we call someone for you and your friend?" Peter continued to throw up till nothing more would come out and then he felt that odd sensation and found himself gasping for breath, eyes looking up at the inside of the truck. They had traded again. He saw himself heaving over the side of the truck although it wasn't him but Neal now. Neal turned and looked at him, face pale.

"Buddy, did you have someone we can call?" He heard the man asking Neal the same question now. Neal shook his head, looking around confused before he saw Peter staring back at him.

"Wa... ter?" Neal gasped, wiping at his mouth as the truck driver nodded and walked away quickly. Neal slid out of the truck and grasped Peter around the waist.

"Neal?" Peter found himself asking before Neal carried them both off, away from the truck and the man. He didn't understand why Neal was running away but he was too weak to protest.

**()()()**

Neal carried Peter to a nearby abandoned tenement building and found a place to hide. He pulled out an old mattress and threw some tarps he found over it and lay Peter on top, curling up near him, breathing heavy.

"Neal?" Peter reached up with his good arm and poked at his friend, the young man not responding. He heard wheezing breath from the young man whose head slumped to one side, eyes closed. Peter sat up as best he could and nudged him a bit harder.

"Neal!" Peter watched as Neal finally opened his eyes, rolling them languidly towards him. The pupils were tiny dots in a sea of brown, his brow flush with tiny beads of sweat.

"Neal, talk to me." Peter waited, watching his friend try to answer but gaping like a fish out of water, eyes rolling back as they closed. Peter nudged him harder but Neal didn't respond.

"I think I know how to get us back to ourselves, Neal. I need you to wake up so you can do this. Just wake up." Peter was remembering the dream he'd had at the gangster's hideout where they had been taken. He stood up with some effort and removed his arm from the makeshift sling. With a determined look he smacked his loose arm against the wall and gave a muffled cry as a 'pop' indicated his arm was back in its socket again. Peter collapsed, feeling Neal's body giving in to the pain. Hopefully one of them would be conscious enough to steal that statue and get them back.

Peter moved back to the mattress and curled up by his friend, feeling the young man's forehead, his forehead and wincing. Neal was burning up with fever, his breath shallow, pulse rapid. His body was sick but Neal was trapped in it. If it die, would Neal die too? Peter wasn't sure how this worked. Would Peter get dragged back and die or would he be trapped as Neal? He was confused if nothing else about how this thing worked and now much longer they had before they were stuck as the other. He had noticed the interval between being themselves was lengthening and becoming more sporadic.

Peter did what he had to and stood again, leaving Neal on the mattress and making his way downstairs. He was dazed from the pain and loss of blood if nothing nothing else but he had a plan. Peter saw the ambulance and the delivery driver outside looking around for them. He whistled, drawing their attention before he disappeared and hid. He saw the men start looking around the building before they shouted and had found Neal. Peter remained hidden until they left then made his way outside and watched the ambulance disappear.

"Let's hope this works out, Neal." Peter whispered, as he vanished into the shadows.

**()()()**

Mozzie showed up looking a little more nervous than usual. Peter had called him as Neal hoping the little guy could help him with what he had planned.

"So you want to steal this statue but you didn't want to hear what I knew about Kate the other day? Are you sure you're ok, Neal?" Mozzie had taken one look at the beat up Neal and wondered what had happened. Peter had explained what he could without giving himself away or hearing anything he would otherwise not need to know. The less he knew about Neal's secrets _(till he told him himself) _the better at the moment.

"Yes. I hate to be abrupt but... I need help finding... this statue." Peter found himself breathless after the little bit of talking, leaning back on the park bench. He had stolen his own wallet and managed to pay for a cab up to the side of town Neal normally hung out on in the Park just to contact Mozz. Mozzie nodded.

"Ok, but then you'll have to explain the whole mess with the Suit. I heard he's in the hospital fighting for his life but you... you look worse. That wound needs to be treated, Neal. Let me take you to a friend. He's on the up and up. Better than a hospital." Mozzie sounded truly concerned if not worried about his friend so Peter consented reluctantly. He wanted the statue as soon as possible but Neal's body needed to be mended so it didn't end up like Peter's which he hoped would live. He wondered how El was doing.

It wasn't long before a small utility truck showed up and an older man with salt and peppery hair showed. He smiled at Mozz and then gave Peter a look of sizing him up before relaxing some.

"Neal this is Doc. He's the guy who helps me when I'm sick. He knows his stuff. No witch doctor, government conspiracy plans from him that will keep me sick and paying the man." Mozzie sounded more his usual self, Peter trying not to laugh. He saw Doc looking at him curiously.

"So what seems to be ailing you besides the gunshot?" Doc started to help Peter with the removal of the old bandages the mobsters had added. He clucked his tongue unhappily.

"Whoever did this was far from pro. This looks like it's getting infected. I'm surprised you're still on your feet. Let me get you some antibiotics. Are you allergic to anything?" Doc walked the few feet to the front of the truck and came back with a small pharmacy. Peter shook his head.

"No." He wanted to itch at his wound suddenly, his shoulder hurting not just from the gunshot but the fact he had pulled his arm out of its socket as well. He leaned back where he sat and closed his eyes a moment. The exhaustion was starting to finally wash over him but he needed Neal's body to be well if they were going to steal that statue. He felt the world start to disappear, a voice in the background.

"I'm sorry, Elizabeth... forgive me..." Peter could hear Neal's voice faintly, fighting to move towards it. He found only darkness till he could see a faint light and headed towards it.

The sound of machines beeped near him, voices louder than Neal's speaking in panicked tones. He thought he heard someone in the background crying.

Peter looked around to find he was in a hospital room, looking at nurses and doctors surrounding a still form on a bed. He turned towards the crying as it was moved away and saw it was Elizabeth. He started to follow but seemed trapped where he stood.

"El! El!" He cried out but she didn't hear him. Nobody did as he watched her exit the room with a nurse. Elizabeth looked sad, her face pale and blotchy as she cried into a tissue and disappeared out of view. Peter watched helplessly, turning at the sound of the machines beeping louder.

"We're losing him. Someone bring in the paddles now!" He heard someone yell, another figure leaving to comply. It was enough to clear a space for Peter to see who was dying. It was him. His body lay grayish, ashen upon the hospital bed, eyes staring partially open. He thought he saw the eyes move slightly but nobody else seemed to notice. He wanted to scream at them but the machine continued to beep loudly.

"_I don't want to die... Elizabeth, I'm sorry. I should have been stronger for you and Peter._" The voice was weaker, Peter finding himself moving closer to take his hand in his own. Those eyes followed him.

"Neal, I'm here. We're going to get the statue. Hold on. Please." He felt those eyes, his eyes looking at him and then he heard a gasp and the machines stopped beeping so loudly. He watched his body shudder and those brown eyes flutter close, body relaxing. Peter felt relief, a hand touching his shoulder and he turned, opening his eyes.

"Neal? You ok? Hey..." Peter blinked at Mozzie's voice looking up at the little guy and gave a faint nod.

"Yeah, perfect..."


	8. Chapter 8

**(Chapter 8)**

Neal had felt his body growing colder, eyes staring straight ahead as he began to fade away. Elizabeth was shaking him, talking to him, voice terrified. He heard the buzz of the nurse's call and voices approach soon after. Time seemed to slow down, the beeping of the machines louder as he felt the world gray into a misty blur.

"_Neal, I'm here. We're going to get the statue. Hold on. Please._" Neal saw Peter standing there amongst the doctors and nurses and felt a renewed strength. They were two sides of the same coin. Equals in many ways. Neal felt himself gasp, shuddering as life came back to him. He saw Peter there for a moment longer then closed his eyes and his friend's presence disappeared as he passed into grateful unconsciousness.

When Neal woke up again he found himself looking up at the sterile white of the hospital ceiling. He heard a soft voice from his right and turned to look, seeing Elizabeth and June sitting there on the sofa chatting quietly. El looked tired, June comforting the young woman.

"He'll be fine and we'll find Neal." June spoke softly, hugging El who was still crying off and on.

"I'm just glad they caught the men who did this." She sniffled slightly, blowing her nose. El turned her blue eyes to June's.

"I just don't understand what happened. Peter keeps insisting he's Neal. I guess he's just worried about Neal but why say he's him?" She seemed to really be asking, June shaking her head.

"I've noticed they took on quite a few of the other's characteristics since becoming partners. It happens with people who are close. I remember Jeremy taking on so many aspects of his father." She sounded so nostalgic, continuing to comfort the younger woman.

"It's just a momentary confusion. He's feverish." June stood, stretching slightly and smiling when she saw that Peter was awake.

"Hey Peter, how are you feeling?" June helped Elizabeth to her feet as the young woman moved towards her husband. June followed, standing to the side as El hugged Peter. He looked confused.

"Peter? I'm Neal. Why does everyone keep calling me Peter?" He sounded petulant almost as Neal might but it was Peter talking. June felt his forehead and clucked her tongue as she pushed the nurse call button.

"He's still very warm." June sounded worried, El watching her husband and hugging him. Peter looked uncomfortable, his brown eyes roving around. A nurse walked in a few minutes later, coming in and checking Peter as he lay there.

"Mr. Burke, how are we feeling today?" She started taking his vitals starting with his pulse.

"I'm not Peter. I'm Neal!" He sounded agitated, his voice groggy from the fever and any meds they were giving him. She nodded, writing something down on the clipboard at the end of the bed. She pulled out a stethoscope and started to listen to his chest and heart. She wrote more things on the board before she took Elizabeth aside.

"Mrs. Burke... His fever is still very high. He's delirious at the moment thinking he's his partner, you said?" The nurse looked at Elizabeth who nodded.

"Yes, Neal Caffrey. He's missing. But why would he think he was Neal? Is it some form of amnesia? I don't understand. They both just went through a very trying month but it doesn't make sense to me." She sounded confused if not worried, the nurse patting her arm gently.

"It may be a kind of guilt. He feels responsible for having lost his friend and partner. I'm guessing they were close? I've seen cases of it before with work-related trauma with jobs like your husband's. Once the fever goes, so should these delusions. I'll get him some medicine and have the doctor come look at him more thoroughly. Just be patient." She smiled slightly at El who nodded, turning to look at her husband. June was chatting softly with Peter, who now seemed a bit calmer.

"I'll be patient. I just want my Peter back."

**()()()**

Peter had been a lot worse off than he thought. Doc had to carry him with Mozzie's help to his storage unit where they made him as comfortable as possible. Peter had taken the antibiotics along with some pain meds but he was muttering odd things.

"Neal is waiting for me... he's sick. I need to get the statues so we can change back." His voice slurred under the influence of the pain meds, Mozzie trying to calm him down as best he knew how but he was bad with people especially sick people.

"Neal, you're ok. You're going to be fine. Doc will check on you again tomorrow but for now. Rest. Peter's in a hospital and he's fine... well as fine as he can be in a government run institution. Just sleep." Mozzie tried to be calm but he sounded a bit uncertain if not upset at not being able to calm his friend down. Peter continued to rant.

"He's sick. If he dies in my body, what will happen to me... or to him? You don't want a Fed for a friend if I stay here and what will Elizabeth think? I want to see my wife!" Peter kept ranting until he finally fell into a more peaceful bliss from the drugs and murmured softly into unconsciousness. Mozzie sighed, relieved Neal was calm and sleeping but wondering about what had been said.

Mozzie actually started to wonder about his friend and the way he had been acting uncharacteristically for the past month or so. It had seemed to him that Neal and the Suit had traded places but that would be crazy talk. That would be the ultimate in conspiracy theories but it would explain some things.

Mozzie pondered it a bit more thinking about why this statue was suddenly so important to Neal. Yes, it was technically valuable but in a more ethnic than monetary sense. Nobody worth their salt as a collector or hard core professional thief or con would spend time stealing this. It was more for quick cash or cultural value than actual worth. He started to investigate the background of the item hoping to figure out the method to his young friend's madness.

**()()()**

Another month passed, Peter less than himself as he barely responded to work with Neal missing. He slept in the guestroom to Elizabeth's dismay, seemingly unable to deal with the loss of his partner. Nobody had found any sign of Neal Caffrey or heard anything about him being found. It was thought maybe he died but nobody could confirm that or the fact he could have run.

The worse part was coming to realize maybe he was actually deluded about who he was. Everyone told him he was '_Peter Burke_,' Federal agent. His reflection told him the same thing but his mind and feelings told him otherwise. Hughes had placed him on administrative leave since the investigation into his partner's disappearance was still underway and they wanted him to get some rest and counseling. Peter was unhappy to say the least and feeling like he was a square peg disguised as a round one and not fitting in despite his deception.

Peter sighed, curling up on the guest room bed. He heard the sound of soft footsteps and then the sound of a light knock on the door before it opened and a familiar face peered inside. It was his wife Elizabeth.

"Hey honey. I have breakfast for you if you're hungry." She smiled softly but he could see the light pinkish color of her eyes and flush of her cheeks indicating she had been crying. A guilty feeling washed over him, making him feel badly for treating her like he had. He hadn't been cruel or mean but he had been far from present for her when El had done nothing but support him. Peter nodded to her with a smile as he rose, pulling the blanket aside.

"Yeah. Thanks, El. Let me get dressed." He sat on the edge of the bed, hugging her lightly as she walked over and wrapped her arms around him before leaving the room. He sighed again, rising to his feet and making his way to the bathroom after a moment. Peter looked at himself in the mirror and sighed unhappily. He saw another person than this in his mind's eye but according to everyone, he was not Neal Caffrey. He stared at the reflection again before disrobing and entering the shower. He let the hot water ease over him, closing his eyes.

_"__**Neal?**__" He turned at the sound of her voice and smiled, peeking out of the shower. She had long dark hair and blue eyes under long dark lashes._

_"__**What's up, Kate?**__" He smiled, kissing her as she reached up to pull his face towards her._

Peter opened his eyes and blinked, the water dripping off his lashes. He shut the water off and dried off before wrapping a dark terry cloth robe around himself. He pretended it was a silk robe of deep brown, his plain sweats and tee a pair of silk pajamas in maroon and purple. He slipped his feet into worn out slippers unlike the ones he thought he owned as Neal.

Neal... where was he? What happened to his partner? He sighed again, dressing in a pair of beige docker type slacks and a white polo shirt with a collar. He imagined he was wearing a _Devor_ suit with expensive Italian leather shoes instead of the top-siders he slipped on. Maybe he was delusional and everyone was right. He and Neal had been close but he couldn't remember too much from the fever about what had happened to his friend.

Peter shook his head and walked downstairs slowly, looking at the pics on the wall, the one where he had a gold FBI ring bringing back a strange chill to him. He crossed the living room and sat down at the dining table where El was laying out a few plates with eggs, fruit and toast. She was busy pouring juice and coffee when he moved behind her and wrapped her in his arms. She started slightly but smiled.

"Feeling better today?" Her blue eyes flashed at him and he nodded with a smile he didn't feel but it seemed to bring contentment to her so he hugged her again, planting a small kiss on her cheek. It didn't feel right but he had to start somewhere. This was his wife; a beautiful exciting woman and yet he kept thinking about Kate.

"Yeah. Much better. I just keep wondering about Neal. He wouldn't have run." Peter sat down, waiting for El to sit before he started eating. He served himself some eggs, fruit and toast, grabbing the butter. He smiled as he took a bite of the eggs. They were buttery and melted in his mouth. He always liked visiting Pe... He stopped himself and tried to remember who he was. His wife's cooking was the best.

They finished their late breakfast and sat on the couch to watch an old movie. After a few minutes, El looked at him and handed him the remote.

"Your game is coming on, honey. I'm going to go fold clothes." She got up to leave but he pulled her back in a soft hug.

"No, let's finish this up. It's a good movie. The game can wait." He watched her look at him curiously but nod, smiling as she nestled against him and they watched the movie.


	9. Chapter 9

**(Chapter 9)**

Peter fumed slightly although he had gotten over the worse of his frustration after he healed up. He had never been away from Elizabeth for this length of time, his heart hurting more from being away from her than the old wounds from the past month. He had mailed back '_his_' wallet anonymously to the FBI offices untraceable from what Mozzie told him. Mozzie had helped him find a temporary place while they tried to figure out where the statue was. The little guy had finally believed him about the whole '_exchange_' that had happened with the statue. It had taken some convincing but once proven that he was indeed _NOT_ Neal, Mozzie had asked him to leave his home, finding him a place to stay.

It was a sad, lonely month for Peter. He barely left the rooms he was renting, having taken out a few dollars to pay for it before returning '_his_' wallet to Neal. He sighed, rolling over on the rough, worn sheets of the bed. He curled up and looked at a pic he took from the wallet of Elizabeth and stared at it longingly. He missed his wife and felt almost jealous that Neal could spend so much time as him with her. He had no knowledge as to what was going on but knew through the grapevine that they were looking for him. Peter wanted to be found but so long as he was stuck as Neal, he needed to find the statue with Mozzie's help and fix things or else it wasn't worth going back. His life would not be his if he went back now. Would El take him like this or even believe he was who he was?

Peter looked up tiredly as he heard the cell he bought ring. Mozzie had helped him get set up for a number just in case he found anything out on the statue before he did. In the meanwhile, Peter had kept busy when he could, going out to various Internet cafes or libraries to use their services to find out more about the statue. The item had been moved since being returned to the museum. Without his access to Jones or his other FBI colleagues, it was hard discovering any insider info beyond what Mozzie could provide. So far he had a long shot on someone knowing where the crate had been moved with the item in question but was waiting for a reply.

"Burke..." There was silence on the other end as he answered, although he knew it was Mozzie. Nobody else had the number. He heard a slight intake of breath and then a familiar nasally voice.

"_It's best if you try to pretend who you look like. Would make me feel better considering you sound like him too._" Mozzie sounded a bit annoyed, Peter nodding at the phone despite himself.

"I'm not him; You know that better than anyone, even my dog." Peter was trying to be light, if not honest, but heard silence again and finally gave in to Mozzie's whims.

"Neal, here... happy?" He sighed audibly as he waited to hear what the little guy had to say. He hoped it was good news. He was starting to feel like he would never be able to go back to his old life with the length of time that had passed. He had felt that moment he and Neal were in that abandoned building was the only time they really had to exchange with the statue but it never happened. He had no more dreams of conversations in his real body nor did he have another exchange. Perhaps whatever had caused this was beyond fixing. He sighed again hearing a reply in like through the cell.

"_You sound unhappy, Suit. I want Neal back as much as you want to go home. If it's any consolation, I'm sorry._" He heard sincere sentiment in the con's voice and smiled for the first time in a while.

"Thanks, Mozz. So, what is it that you called about. I'm guessing it's not a social call." He was who he was and got down to business which he guessed Mozzie was expecting. He heard a little cough on the other end before he spoke again.

"_Well, the long shot I told you about... It panned out. My friend tells me the exhibit the statue is a part of will be coming back to town. They will be at the __Museum of Natural History__ two weeks from today. They are currently in transit from California where they had been originally meant to go before that ring of antiquities thieves took them a few months back. I still don't understand why they took them..._" He sounded rather bland in tone if not totally expressionless and yet there was something there that was readable if you just listened. Peter held back a chuckle as he thought about it.

"Two more weeks. Any chance we could steal it before that? Maybe in transit?" Peter suddenly gawked at himself although it lasted much shorter than it would have had he heard this from Neal or spoken like this just over a month ago. He'd never thought of stealing anything in his life and yet here he was, out right discussing a heist and with Mozzie. What wierd topsy-turvy universe had he just fallen into? He heard silence for a moment then a cough again.

"_Suit... are you sure you're not Neal?_"

**(Almost two weeks later...)**

Peter woke up to the sound of his cell phone buzzing. He rolled over and picked it up, the soft blue glow illuminating his face in the darkness. He pushed it to his ear and spoke sleepily.

"Burke." He listened till he heard Jones on the other end speaking.

"What? How did you find out? Really? I'll be right there." He hung up the cell and started to dress in the darkness, throwing on a pair of comfortable slacks, tucking in his tee and throwing a white dress shirt with blue stripes over it all, tucking it in as he pulled on black socks and pushed his feet into his wingtips. He heard the padding of feet outside the door and saw the knob turn in the dim light.

"Honey? Everything ok?" Elizabeth stood there in the dim light from the guest room window. He shook his head, finishing dressing as he turned on a lamp. He closed his eyes a moment to adjust, noticing Elizabeth doing the same.

"Neal... they think they found him or at least signs he might be doing a heist soon." He sighed, a strange feeling of irony washing over him despite everything. He shook it off and stood, hugging her as he walked out of the room, arm around her shoulders. She leaned against him as they walked down the stairs and into the living room. Peter started to grab up his car keys and pull on his coat when Elizabeth pointed at the kitchen.

"Do you have time for breakfast?" She sounded anxious and in a way vulnerable to him. Maybe it was just his nerves at finding his partner might still be alive and the disappointment Neal might have been on the run if not still running. He shook his head sadly.

"Sorry honey. I'll see you in a few hours. Not sure how long this is going to take." He hugged her and kissed her on the cheek before leaving.

**()()()**

The FBI briefing was short at their offices, Peter listening to what Hughes had to say as well as the interview of the informant who had discovered the intended heist.

"It's really not worth much beyond cultural value so we're not sure why anyone would want to steal this statue or anything in the collection. We thought after the last incident these items would be safe." The man was in his late forties, of medium height with a milk chocolate complexion and short curly hair. He wore a cream colored suit, more a beige than white, with tan loafers. He seemed every bit the academic in his manner with thin wire frame spectacles sitting on his nose. He seemed more annoyed by the fact he was back at their offices than anything. Hughes nodded placating at the gentleman.

"I apologize for the inconvenience, Mr. Buhari. We are doing everything in our power to prevent this incident from happening. Where exactly did you get your information about his heist? We're still curious how you came to know about it." Hughes was more than hospitable but the man seemed almost insulted by the remarks.

"I am not involved with this if you are thinking I am snitching on someone else. I received a strange note in my e-mail from a colleague that said there were hints of someone planning to steal these pieces again. I looked into it and found out that a '_Nick Halden_' was going to try and steal this piece for his collection. That is all that I know." Mr. Buhari looked distressed if not annoyed, crossing his arms tightly over his chest and looking at Hughes with a glare. Peter sat off to the side and behind Hughes as an observer, the glare reaching to him as Hughes moved aside to turn and whisper to him.

"_I think he's on the up and up but why would Caffrey advertise a heist of this caliber? Doesn't seem like him. You know him better than me. What do you think?_" Hughes kept his voice quiet, turning briefly when he noticed Peter watching Buhari's glance.

"_I can't think of a reason why Neal would do this. It's not his usual M.O._" Peter was truly confused thinking of how this could have been better pulled off had he done it and stopping himself. He would never pull a job like this off. He was a Federal agent! What was his thinking? Well he did have to '_think_' like Caffrey so that was probably why he was going through all the possibilities. No other explanation.

"Can you tell us more about the history of the piece and when the theft is supposed to take place, Mr. Buhari?" Peter spoke softly, leaning forward towards the museum curator and smiled politely. The man blinked, loosening his arms a bit as he thought about the question.

"I was just told it would happen very soon and it would right under our noses. This Mr. Halden is interested in a particularly rare piece from the Congo region and Songye tribe. The statue was said to work on the duality of those of the same mind. Their shaman believed that it allowed brothers to change places, couples to see the other as they really were and to allow one to exchange places with another person who might be considered a '_soul twin_.' They were a very superstitious people." Mr. Buhari uncrossed his arms and stood, smoothing his pants and jacket as he looked at the two agents.

"If there is anything else you need, feel free to contact me, but I must be going now. I have a pressing appointment, Agent Hughes... Agent Burke." His tone was only slightly curt, Hughes holding out a hand to him as he walked around the desk to walk their guest out. Peter also shook the man's hand, Mr. Buhari shivering slightly before he turned his attention back to Hughes and exited. Peter had noticed the reaction and wondered what was going on. He watched the man leave the offices and Hughes walk back up to the offices, closing the door.

"So, what do you think Peter? Peter?" Hughes touched his shoulder before he looked up somewhat startled.

"Sorry, I was just thinking about something he said. I still can't believe Neal is involved with this. He must be under duress. He would never do anything like this unless someone was forcing him. It's not his M.O. Hughes. You know that." Peter spoke a bit more adamantly than he meant to but Reese nodded in his fatherly manner, smiling.

"It's possible he is under duress but if he does steal this item, he will be arrested if not by us, by the police. I'm already talking to the museum and authorities to see if we can handle this quietly and let us deal with capturing Caffrey. He's not a danger to anyone else so it would be best we catch him and find out what's going on before someone gets trigger happy." Hughes sat back down beside Peter and patted him on the shoulder.

"We'll figure this out, Peter. I'm just glad to know the boy is alive. I was beginning to worry there for a while." Reese sounded sincere in his sentiments, Peter looking at him curiously. The older man chuckled slightly.

"I know I haven't seemed to care in the past but from all he's done for us and my own interactions with him, I consider Caffrey part of our team. I'm hoping he still is when this is over."

**()()()**

Peter sat in his office, idly folding stationary into origami flowers and other forms when he heard a knock on the door. He looked up to see Jones smiling there.

"Hey boss. How are you feeling?" The younger agent sat down across from him in the chair '_he_' ... well Neal used to sit in. He sighed despite himself, continuing to finish folding a very intricate flower from paper, Jones watching him.

"That good, huh? I guess you heard about Caffrey then? Any thoughts on how we're going to figure out when he's hitting the site and how to catch him?" Jones didn't sound eager, his tone filled with curiosity if nothing else. Peter shook his head, finishing the flower and dropping it on the desk with another sigh.

"I've been working on how I would do it if I were him. It has to be soon but I just can't find the reason why or guess exactly when..." His voice trailed off a bit as he eyed another piece of paper and held it in his hands as if trying to consider what to make next. He must really have taken on a lot of Neal's habits to start making origami flowers. He couldn't remember even being able to make such things before. Peter felt eyes on him and suddenly remember Jones was there again.

"I'll do some digging of my own. I have a copy of the message sent to the curator if you want it." Jones stood, Peter nodding distractedly as he began to fold the paper.

"Thanks, Jones."

**()()()**

By the end of the day, Peter had a regular menagerie on his desk of hand-folded flowers, animals and other items. He pushed them into the waste paper basket sadly before he stood and grabbed his jacket. When he wasn't folding paper, he had been pushing it, reading it or doing research on the artifact Mr. Buhari had talked to them about. Not too long after his visit, Jones had brought him a copy of the email the curator's colleague had received about the soon to be theft. It was a scanned image of a hand written note. The handwriting was familiar. Peter had examined it every which way not able to comprehend it beyond the obvious words. It was definitely Neal's style. He must be missing something. He sighed, pushing the paper into the folder of collected information he needed to take home and study.


	10. Chapter 10

**(Chapter 10)**

Peter trusted that Mozzie knew what he was doing when he made him write that note. He had no clue what it meant beyond the words used but Mozzie said if he did know, it would be bad so Peter had just trusted him, seeing he had little choice at the moment. It was a kind of warning note to let the FBI or better yet a certain agent know what was going on and hopefully be there when they got the statue. He hoped it would go no further than it had to.

Meanwhile, trapped as he was as Neal he continued to do what he could in research for the heist, moping when he was in the junkie apartment he had rented. Currently he was doing the latter, his eyes staring up at the ceiling in a bored manner as he counted the water stains and other things he could only imagine what they were above him. He sighed, falling into a light sleep after a bit. For the first time in a while he felt himself having a vivid dream.

_"__**Honey, are you sure you're ok? I can make you some more coffee if you like.**__" It was El's voice he heard. He turned to see her standing to his left, her back to him as he saw another figure sitting at the table before her. The figure seemed familiar, turning to confirm who he thought it was._

_"__**I'm fine.**__" The figure reached up and kissed El on the cheek, hugging her where they sat. There were papers spread before them on a table, his dining room table in fact. Peter moved as close as he felt he could when he looked down to see Satchmo looking at him or seemed to be looking at him. The dog whined, El turning. He noticed her face was drawn and tired looking. She didn't look happy or at least she didn't look as happy as he knew she usually was. Peter tried to touch her cheek but she was out of reach._

_"S__**hhh... Satch, your daddy is working. I'll take you out in a moment.**__" She hugged the figure back before walking away to grab the leash and take their lab out. Peter watched El leave, wanting to following but instead looking over the figure's shoulder; His shoulders. His body occupied by Neal was looking at something intently. Peter peered over and saw what it was they were looking at: Neal's case file. He noticed a copy of the note Mozzie had him write was on the top of the pile, the agent looking at it in frustration._

_"__**I should know how this works... I should know how he thinks!**__" He heard his voice hiss in frustration to nobody in particular. He blinked realizing that Neal was becoming him. No wonder he hadn't been dreaming of home. If Neal thought he was him, then why would there be any reason for returning. Peter felt a panic overcome him as he reached to touch his shoulder._

_"_Neal! Neal you have to remember who you are! Neal... Neal... Ne..." Peter found himself abruptly awake again and looking up at the dirty, water stained ceiling. He sighed, rolling over to his side and curling up. Had that been a dream or was it as real as it felt?

**()()()**

Peter turned when he felt an icy tingle on his shoulder. He was alone and yet even after El had left with Satchmo he had felt as if someone were looking over his shoulder. It had been a strange experience although not scary. He sighed and went back to looking at the note. He rubbed at his eyes sleepily, crumpling the paper at some point in his hands and folding it till he wanted to rip it. It was when he was folding it that he saw something curious.

"What's this?" Peter started to look at how he had folded it and began to see markers that looked familiar. He kept at it till he smiled and felt a sense of accomplishment. He looked at what he had discovered and stood, looking for something then coming back with his cell. He held it over the paper and took a pic of his discovery, hooking it up to his laptop that sat nearby.

"Bingo!" The paper had folded to reveal a secret message. He laughed at how easy it had been to figure out once he'd gotten inspired. He wondered how he had thought of it but then he knew that Neal loved the '_classics_.' He was still beaming at the discovery when El came back in from outside, Satchmo looking around as if for someone. Peter petted the dog on the head and smiled. El noticed his change in mood.

"Something good? You look happy." She sat beside him and he pulled her into a light hug, nodding his head.

"Yup... I found out what Neal was hiding in the note."

**()()()**

Mozzie called Peter three days later to let him know they were finally ready and he would pick him up in a few minutes. It had been easy to find something appropriate to wear as Mozzie had managed to sneak into June's while she was out of town and grab a few things for him. He had given Neal's key to Mozz figuring he would look less suspicious than he going in. Nobody was looking for Mozzie although he had been staying as far off the radar as he could.

Peter put on the clothes; a favorite dark blue suit of Neal's that he often wore for undercover work. It made him look a bit more authentic as a playboy or whatever rich collector they had him playing. Mozzie had matched it up with a light pink button up shirt and black vest. He had also brought some nice Italian leather shoes that matched. Looking in the scratched up mirror of the bathroom he had to admit for a cartoon he could go for this look. His body wouldn't pull it off in the same manner but he wondered if El would go for it. He just couldn't see the reasoning behind spending so much on something that would eventually wear out or shrink. The shoes alone would pay for a few vets visits for Satchmo.

He turned when the cell started to vibrate on the bed and grabbed the phone, pushing it to his ear.

"B... Neal." He had finally gotten it down what Mozzie wanted to hear if only just barely. He heard a slight cough on the other end.

"Suit, do you think Neal will comply with what the note said? I mean you said he was acting like you, no offense." Mozzie's tone was so flat and expressionless it made Peter want to chuckle or maybe it was nerves. He knew how he could be and he was starting to get nervous. If he was acting like Neal and vice versa... this could get ugly. He tried not to think about it as he answered.

"I think it should be ok. If he's thinking like me, then he wants to be sure I come back safely. It will work out. He wants back to being himself although he may have temporarily forgotten who he is."


	11. Chapter 11

**(Chapter 11)**

"Let me talk to him alone. Stay in the background. It should be ok." Peter looked at Hughes with an almost pleading look, some part of him hoping that Neal was going to turn himself in. According to the note, he wanted to talk to Peter alone if only long enough to convince him of what was going and had been going on for the last couple of months. He looked at Reese and watched the older agent's face till he saw a nod.

"I trust that you know what you're doing, Burke. You said he admitted to planning this heist but beyond that, he seems to honestly be trying to get back in our good graces. Are you certain you want to do this?" Hughes sounded tired but his voice held concern for his best agent and friend. Peter nodded without hesitation.

"I trust him. I need to know what happened to cause this. If he's willing to meet with me and talk, I'll give him the benefit of the doubt. I owe him that much. If..." He started to say: "_If he's not on the up and up, I'll arrest him myself..._" but he didn't and left it at that, Reese seemingly understanding what he meant.

"Ok, then. We'll be your backup and you'll be wired. He should be expecting that."

**()()()**

The meeting took place at the museum warehouse after hours. They had the permission of the curator, Mr. Buhari and his staff. Their guards were told to stand down as were the police who were called in when Mr. Buhari decided he wanted a second opinion much to Hughes' annoyance. He didn't like involving the police in their cases unless it was absolutely necessary and at the moment, it didn't seem to be.

Peter had told Elizabeth he would be meeting with Neal but not how or why. He wanted to spare her feelings in case things didn't turn out the way he expected. He knew Neal could be unpredictable at times. There was no threat of violence only of losing Neal if he ran again which it seems he had done in this case although it wasn't clear why.

The warehouse loading area of the museum was deserted this time of day, filled with boxes with numbers that were stacked in infinite amounts it seemed. Peter followed the map he had been anonymously mailed and found the spot he was supposed to meet Neal at. The building was silent except for the occasion creak and groan of boxes and the building itself. He felt a little creeped out till he heard soft footsteps and a figure dressed to the nines stepped out. It was Neal.

Neal looked a bit thinner if nothing else, his face pale, expression far from happy. Something about seeing him again made the agent excited not just for seeing his friend and partner for other reasons he couldn't fathom at the moment. He saw a similar feeling pass through those blue eyes before it vanished.

"I'm glad you came. I wasn't sure how else to get you here." Neal's voice was soft and almost hard. There was no soft charming smile, those blue eyes stormy gray with emotions that seemed to be more angry than anything. Peter wasn't sure how to react.

"It's good to see you too. You look well (_he lied_). So what is it that you wanted to discuss with me? What's so special about this statue you want to steal? I'm guessing Mozzie was your inside person?" He got right to the point because that's how he was. He noticed Neal blink in surprise and then frown slightly, almost sadly.

"You've become too much like me. I know it feels good to have the home but it's not yours. You're welcome like family but Neal... you're not me!"

Peter blinked this time, looking at Neal confused.

"Why are you talking in the third person? Neal, I can get you help. We're all worried about you. Forget this heist and we can figure something out." He hoped the con man would agree but he saw a shake of his head.

"If anyone needs help, it's you Neal. They must have convinced you of being me because of what happened. Unlike me, you had to conform or you knew my life would be nothing when I got it back. Remember who you are. That's why I need the statue. Why we need it. Remember..." Neal spoke plainly, pointing at a box to the side that seemed familiar.

"That's the box I placed you on at the raid when we were shot. I wrote the number down. Inside that box is what caused this and will fix it. I'm not stealing the item but we need it if our lives are going to return to what they were. Wake up, Neal! I need you to remember if not for your sake or mine, do it for Elizabeth's."

It seemed the con was looking at him a bit more deeply than before. He thought about all the things he had been doing since Neal left. People had said he seemed to be different and the fact he started making origami figures for fun was a bit unusual if nothing else. He thought about the origami figures a moment. Peter didn't know how to make those! Neal did so that meant...

But maybe he learned from watching his friend and partner making them. It was possible but improbable seeing that Peter was no nonsense. Why take up a craft he wouldn't need or use. Peter was practical, Neal was not.

There seemed to be a glimmer of something there that started to make sense to him. He had told everyone he was Neal but had been afraid of what would happen to Peter if he continued so he let himself be convinced.

Neal/Peter's head started to hurt, his hand going to his temples. He thought he felt the world start to swirl drunkenly before he tipped slightly forward and was caught by Peter/Neal.

"I didn't mean to break your belief but you aren't Peter Burke, I am. I guess in the end you listened to me and _cowboyed_ up. I'm so sorry Neal. If this could have been stopped..." He would have continued but there was a shot, Peter/Neal slumping as his shoulder was hit. Neal/Peter turned and looked around seeing a museum guard standing there looking nervous.

"They told you to stand by! What the hell were you thinking?" He looked at Peter/Neal, his body slumping as he collapsed to the ground. Peter/Neal looked back at him with his blue eyes pleading with him.

"Pull the statue out of the box, Neal. Please!" Peter/Neal seemed to slump more as he lay him sitting against another box. Neal/Peter pulled a crowbar out of a pile and started to pry the box open. He dug through the hay and packing material till he found it. He turned and looked at Peter who was looking pekid now, the wound bleeding heavily. He turned and screamed at the guard to get help, hearing the FBI coming in through the two-way as they heard the shot. He needed to do this before they showed up.

"Peter, what now? I have the statue." He nudged his friend who looked up, blue eyes watery and unfocused.

"_Blood_..." Was all he muttered as he passed out from the pain. Neal was afraid, shaking his friend.

"Peter? Peter wake up!" He looked at the limp form of himself laying there and froze in fear. Finally he rubbed the statue against his friend's wound and prayed for his friend to be ok.

"Please don't die, Peter. Elizabeth needs you. I'm sorry... for everything." He was remembering now…

Neal waited to see what would happen but nothing did. He crouched down and shook his friend gently, taking off his jacket and binding the wound as best he could.

"Peter, please... wake up!" He was starting to cry, still shaking his friend when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Burke... let the paramedics take care of him." Neal looked up to see Reese looking down at him. This was wrong. He wasn't Peter.

"No... he..." Neal felt dizzy again. It wasn't just the revelation of everything coming back to him but something else. He felt a pain in his chest as if he had been shot again at the raid when this all started. He could smell the gun powder burning his nostrils. He felt strong arms catch him and someone shouting, it sounded like Hughes but he wasn't sure, darkness overcoming him.

**()()()**

"_Neal... Neal... Neal, wake up_."

The voice penetrated the darkness like a bright light and yet he still couldn't react to it.

"_Neal... Neal wake up_!"

He felt a coldness coming over him as he fought to reach the surface. Someone was calling to him.

"Neal? Can he hear me?"

Neal felt his eyes open slowly, painfully as bright light blinded him. He squinted and closed them again until he could open them fully. Someone was holding him, the ground rough beneath where he sat. He realized suddenly he was sitting on the ground leaning against someone, that someone was Peter.

"Peter?" Neal looked up at those brown eyes staring back at him feeling a bit confused. He looked at himself and he was '_himself_' again. What had just happened? Where was he? He saw Peter looking at him with a relieved smile. He noticed a small gash on his friend's temple.

"Hey. Got scared there for a moment. How are you feeling?" Peter's voice was quiet, Neal still feeling a bit confused on what had happened. He sat up with some effort and looked around. They were back at the original raid just after he got shot. He saw a bit of blood on Peter's white shirt sleeve but nothing more. It seemed he had been winged but off to his left he saw a figure laying dead on the ground, the gunman.

"I feel like a train hit me. What happened? I thought we were getting the statue." Neal was still thinking back to what he had seen but Peter looked at him oddly. Apparently nothing he remembered had really happened, or so it seemed.

"Statue? Uhm... Maybe the vest didn't protect you as much as I thought. Did you hit your head?" Peter felt around gently till Neal winced. There was a small knot on the back of his head where the force of the blast had thrown him against the ground. Had it all been a dream?

"Nevermind... just glad to be back." Neal winced as Peter helped him up with his good arm, Jones in the background with other agents swarming and checking for more gunmen. Neal limped with Peter back to the Taurus before sitting down and relaxing just a bit as he leaned back in the passenger seat. Peter slipped in on the other side and sighed, his arm obviously hurting him despite it being no more than a minor graze. Someone had already wrapped it up, the agent's sleeve torn and slightly bloody.

"Sure you're ok, Neal? Seems like you were a bit confused back there. The paramedic should be here in a few minutes to check on you." Peter passed him a bottled water, taking one for himself.

"I'm ok. I had a weird dream when I got knocked out. Let's just say you were there, Jones and everyone else... and there's no place like home!" He took a long sip of water hearing a soft chuckle from Peter.

"Sounds like the kind of dream I had. I second that toast." He clinked water bottles with his friend as they waited for the paramedic. Ends up Neal had a few bruised ribs from the blast hitting his vest and a nasty bump but nothing else seemed to be the matter. He had lucked out. No vest would have meant massive trauma. They both thanked the paramedic as he bandaged Neal's chest. Once he was done, they both buckled up, closing their doors.

"Guess it's home again, home again, jiggity jig?" Peter grinned at Neal's expression.

"Ugh, don't get nursery rhymes stuck in my head!" Neal covered his ears with a groan and slight crinkling sound. The paramedic had wrapped his ribs for safety's sake despite it only being bruising. Peter nodded.

"Sorry, something my dad used to say." Peter blushed slightly.

**()()()**

A couple of weeks went by and Neal began to forget about the alternate history since now it seemed to have not happened at all. Peter didn't even seem aware of what had happened so Neal wasn't going to say anything if he was the only one who remembered. Maybe it was a weird dream and he could leave it at that.

Neal paced his apartment, walking out onto the terrace and looking out over the city. He had missed this view and his apartment. He had missed June and Mozzie and as much as it had felt good to feel like he had a home and wife, it was someone else's. He could never steal another person's life for his own benefit. He was glad to have things the way they ought to be. He turned at a slight knock and saw June peek in.

"Everything ok? You've been awfully quiet the past few days." She had a small tray of food in her arms: sandwiches and fruit. Neal made to help her as she walked over to him and they set the food on the patio table. Both of them sat and she smiled at him, her hand touching his.

"I guess everything's back to the way it was?" Her voice was somewhat enigmatic as if she knew, Neal turning to stare at her a moment but she just smiled in her friendly manner.

"Just the doddering thoughts of an old woman. Nothing important. I should let you rest." He was about to say something but stopped himself and nodded. He felt like he had had this conversation before or had he? He was forgetting what he thought had happened.

"If you're doddering then I think I'm _Napolean_." He flashed one of his patented grins at her, sticking his hand inside his jacket. June chuckled.

"Such a charmer."

**()()()**

Peter was walking Satchmo around the block. It has been at least two weeks since the raid and he had this strange feeling of something he was forgetting. He stopped when he noticed Satchmo looking at him funny.

"What is it Satch? I grow a third arm or something?" The dog seemed to be watching him intently as if wondering something then sniffling in reply before continuing his explorations along the route.

When Peter got back home, Elizabeth had already set out dinner on the table. He was walking past the table to the kitchen to wash up when he noticed the third place setting. He paused and looked at El who was finishing placing napkins on the table.

"We expecting someone for dinner?" He walked around the table and hugged her gently, wrapping his arms around her waist and smelling her hair. He felt like he had gone on a trip and just returned. She noticed his manner and smiled, turning to kiss him on the lips.

"Just Neal. You invited him, remember? Two weeks ago. I'm testing out the new recipes tonight." She blinked at him and he nodded but he really had forgotten. Neal came over so often, it was almost strange to think he took that fact for granted. He kissed her on the cheek and nodded again as he made his way to the kitchen to wash up. While he was there he heard the door bell and El call out. Satchmo barked in reply which was odd in itself. Everyone seemed to know who was at the door but him.

"Neal... come on in!" Peter heard El's voice speaking as he dried his hands and exited the kitchen peeking around the corner. He saw Neal standing in the entrance, something under his arm.

"You didn't have to bring anything, Neal. You're always welcomed." El wrapped her arm gently in Neal's and led him inside as she closed the door. Satchmo looked at the young man expectantly, Neal stopping to pet the lab affectionately. Peter noticed the dog was acting just as oddly as he had been to Peter, sniffing the young man's hand as if confirming something.

Neal looked up as he walked around the corner to the living room and saw Peter. They nodded at one another, El smiling as she took the wine bottle from Neal.

"Let me put this on ice." She disappeared into the kitchen, leaving the two men alone a moment. Satchmo seemed to look between the two, walking over to lick Peter's hand in a manner he only did with his master. Neal smiled as if thinking about something fond.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Peter spoke softly, motioning towards the sofa. Neal nodded and they sat down.

"Nothing much to share. You'd be wasting your money." Neal smirked ever so slightly, hands in his lap. Peter nodded back.

"I keep thinking I've forgotten something but I guess it's not important. You're here and El seems happy. Satch is too." He scratched the dog behind the ears affectionately, the dog smiling. Neal nodded.

"Yeah. Mozzie said I was acting strangely like I had been on a long trip and only just got back. Distant is probably what he meant but you know Mozz." He shrugged, leaning back against the sofa and closed his eyes a moment. He sensed Peter move slightly.

"I think I know the feeling. I've been feeling a bit disconnected since the incident at the raid. I had a nightmare it was so much worse but it was just a dream. Thank goodness we put that vest on you. Hughes always thinks they'll see it over that skinny frame of yours. I just had this feeling you'd need it." Peter blinked as if unsure why that sounded odd. Neal seemed to be a bit surprised by the comment.

"Thanks for that. Bruised ribs are better than breathing through a tube." He opened his eyes as he heard the kitchen door open and El exited with a dish of something that smelled good. He smiled, seeing Peter rise.

"Looks like dinner's ready." Peter smiled, Neal standing beside him and reflecting the expression.

"Last one to the table, washes dishes."


End file.
